Back From Israel
by catsmeou
Summary: Ziva returns to the US after the events in Aliyeh, but finds the consequences for Rivkin and her actions aren't what she expected. Not for Ziva fans. Tony whump/Gibbs support. AU.
1. Chapter 1

_**Long-time reader of NCIS fanfic, with a definite tip in the direction of Tony as a competent and all-around good guy. After many kicks in the behind by scousemuz1k to keep me motivated, I decided to stick my toe into the fanfic writer pool and see what happens. All good things in this story are due to her gentle guidance and edits. Booboos are my bad. Second warning: If you're a fan of Ziva, skip this story. **_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS, just borrowing the characters for a little fun.**_

Chapter 1

Tony shifted uneasily under Ziva's stony glare, his injured arm aching all the way up into his shoulder, not helped at all by the bouncing and jolting of the C130's turbulence. They were hours into the flight and he was exhausted, but unable to relax under her angry stare. At least she had put the knife away that she's been periodically bringing out to examine minutely before tucking it back away out of sight.

Taking a careful deep breath, he closed his eyes and tried again to relax, hoping that Ziva wouldn't actually try and kill him with Vance and Gibbs present. While Gibbs had settled back into his usual state of sleep as soon as the wheels left the tarmac back in Israel, Vance remained awake, studying the three of them periodically, expressionless.

Tony had no idea what he was thinking, and tried not to think of being banished to another stint as Agent Afloat, or as the sole agent at some distant Navy outpost in the arctic hundreds of miles from the nearest neighbors. Whatever Vance was thinking, he was sure it wasn't good for his future. Though with Ziva probably plotting dozens of ways to torture him to death, maybe what Vance was thinking wouldn't matter much in the long run.

After what seemed like an eternity, the plane finally descended and landed at Andrews Air Force Base. As the plane taxied to a stop and the engine noise died down, the four of them stood and stretched. Tony hid a grimace at the waves of pain that swept across his shoulder, up his neck, and across his back. Picking up his bag, he followed the others off the plane and into the cool night air of DC.

With the vibration and noise of the plane gone, the quiet and fresh air was a relief. All he wanted now was a shower, some Tylenol, and his bed. Please, he thought, no report writing tonight. Tomorrow would be soon enough, right? He glanced at Gibbs, wishing and hoping for him to give the ok to head home.

Walking towards the Flight Office parking lot, Vance turned to Gibbs, "Tomorrow morning, my office, debriefing on this damn mess. 0800. Make sure those two are available," he added with a scowl towards the two trailing agents. His security detail was standing by his waiting car, and without another word, he entered the car, and was soon out of sight.

Gibbs led the way to the Charger, and had just unlocked its doors when a dark sedan pulled up behind it. Officer Michael Bashan stepped out of the back door and nodded to the three of them. "Officer David, we have an apartment ready for your use. We will discuss more permanent housing arrangements tomorrow. Please," he said motioning to the open rear door of his sedan.

Ziva glared at him, before turning, intending to enter the shotgun seat of the Charger. "Ziva," Gibbs said, stopping her. He nodded toward Officer Bashan. "Go. Get some rest. Be at the office tomorrow by 0730."

"I do not need or want his help, Gibbs," she stated firmly. "I will shower in the locker room at NCIS, and sleep on Abby's futon. I will **not **go with him," nodding towards Bashan, "and will make my own housing arrangements." She opened the door to the Charger, and started to toss her bag inside.

Before she could enter the car though, Gibbs spoke, "Ziva, you need to get some decent rest, and you're not going to get it sleeping on a futon in Abby's lab. It's going to be a long day tomorrow. Go, get settled, take a hot shower, rest."

Scowling, she started to object, but Gibbs cut her off, "That wasn't a suggestion, Ziva."

Tony watched as she stared at Gibbs, obviously frustrated and furious. Just go, Ziva, he thought, aching and frustrated himself. The longer she argued, the longer it'd be until he could fall into his own bed. He needed the break from her, her rage, her distrust; he needed time to figure out how he was going to deal with tomorrow. He was certain that whatever Vance had planned in response to Rivkin's death, it wasn't going to go well for him. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and shifted uneasily.

Bashan gently touched Ziva on her shoulder, "Ziva, it's late. We all need some rest."

Wrenching herself from under his touch, she sent a look of hatred Tony's way, then went around to the driver's door of the waiting sedan, and evicted the person behind the wheel. Slamming the door as she settled into the driver's seat, she barely waited for Bashan and the ex-driver to settle in the car themselves before flooring the accelerator and whipping out of the parking lot.

Tony sank into the car seat and struggled to buckle his seat-belt, grimacing at the stabbing pains interfering with his efforts, before the buckle clicked into place. He braced himself for the trip to NCIS, hoping the light traffic would help avoid too many sudden swerves by Gibbs on the way.

-000-

Sitting on one of the cold autopsy tables, Tony yawned and shivered, shirtless. Damn Gibbs, anyway. As soon as they'd hit the NCIS parking lot, Gibbs dragged him down to autopsy and left him in Ducky's hands with a short, "Check him out, Duck," before disappearing.

With a clucking sound, Ducky turned away from the fresh radiographs of Tony's shoulder that he'd been examining, pausing momentarily when Gibbs returned. Returning his attention to Tony, Ducky said, "Anthony, how did you injury your shoulder? It was undamaged when you departed for Israel apart from some bruising. Now you've not only fractured the scapula, but you've managed to add significantly more bruising to that shoulder and along your upper back. Furthermore, young man, I most certainly do not recall this swelling and bruising in the center of your chest before you departed."

Tony just shook his head, so tired he could barely muster the energy to concentrate on what Ducky was saying. "It was nothing."

Ducky frowned and said forcefully, reproach in his tone, "It is not nothing, Anthony! You have clearly been assaulted, severely enough to break bones. By rights, you should go to Hospital for an MRI to determine if you've damaged any ligaments or tendons in your shoulder when your scapula was fractured."

Tony looked up alarmed, "No hospital!" He straightened his back and almost groaned at the pain and exhaustion washing through him. "Ducky, please, can't this all just wait until tomorrow after we all get some rest?" He glanced beseechingly at Gibbs.

Gibbs stared at him for a long moment, then without taking his eyes off Tony, he asked, "Duck? Can it wait? "

With a deep breath of exasperation, the doctor finally conceded, "You will permit me to secure your arm from all movement, Anthony, and take the anti-inflammatory and pain medication I prescribe. And you will stay with Gibbs tonight. First thing in the morning, you will report to Bethesda for whatever tests the doctors determine are needed to uncover the full extent of the damage inflicted upon you, and you will agree to whatever treatment the doctors determine is necessary."

Tony perceptibly relaxed and nodded, which was a mistake.

Gibbs stepped into his personal space, inches from Tony's face, and demanded, "Who did this to you, DiNozzo?"

Swaying back from Gibbs, Tony reacted badly to this new threat, "Just leave it alone, Gibbs!" He tried to wiggle off the table and around his boss without success. The last think he needed was to hand Vance more ammunition to use against him. And…he wasn't all that sure that Gibbs wouldn't think it was his fault that it happened. He was already riding a desk until he healed up as it was; no point in having Gibbs think he'd caused himself even more damage because he couldn't handle Ziva when she was on a tear.

Placing both hands on the autopsy table on either side of Tony, blocking him, Gibbs said forcefully, "Who? Was it one of Director David's people?"

A flicker of misery, quickly hidden, showed in Tony's eyes before he closed them and shook his head, "No. Just…can you just leave it alone for now, please?"

Gibbs remained implacable, "Who did this to you?" He tipped his head to the side slightly, eyes narrowing. He waited until Tony opened his eyes, then bent down a little until he was looking directly into his eyes. "Ziva?" he asked softly.

Tony didn't answer, but Gibbs could see the answer in his expression. Behind him Ducky breathed out an almost inaudible, "Oh dear."

Gibbs straightened, stepping back, face blank.

"Boss, she didn't mean to…"

Gibbs spoke softly, "Enough, DiNozzo. We'll deal with this tomorrow." He turned to Ducky, "Get him fixed up, Duck."

Tony sat silent, eyes downcast, while Ducky worked. Gibbs stood silent, watching Tony without comment. Tony couldn't help wondering if Gibbs was ticked because Tony screwed up and caused this whole mess in the first place, or at his lack of ability to keep Ziva corralled and out of trouble.

Ducky finished by holding out two tablets for Tony to swallow, unscrewing the lid of a bottle of water to wash them down. He held out a packet with several more tablets to Gibbs, "Pain medication. Two when you get him home, two in the morning before heading to Bethesda." He passed another smaller packet to him, "Anti-inflammatories - two in the morning also. The doctors at Bethesda will prescribe additional medication if needed after reviewing the test results."

Gibbs nodded, pocketing them and helped Tony from the table, heading for the door with one hand under his good elbow, steadying him. "Thanks, Ducky."

The doctor watched them go, shaking his head, "What a dreadful mess this has all come to be."


	2. Chapter 2

**Oh my goodness – thank you to everyone who reviewed. I feel kinda overwhelmed. Never expected such a wonderful reaction to my little plot. I hope I don't disappoint anyone now with the upcoming chapters (gulp). **

_**Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS, just borrowing the characters for a little fun.**_

Chapter 2

It was hard to remain still. His shoulder and back ached, and the hard cold table didn't help. If he shifted any, he knew the MRI scan would have to be restarted, so he closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, and held still. Damn his shoulder, damn his back, damn Rivkin, damn Vance, damn Ziva, damn Gibbs for dragging him to the hospital when all he wanted was to burrow deeper under the covers and sleep, except he knew his sleep had been restless, broken up by pain and nightmares, even with Ducky's pain killers.

Just when he thought he couldn't remain still for a moment longer, he felt the table slide slowly out of the machine. Groaning, he pushed himself over and off his shoulder. A quick trip back to an exam room in the ER, and to Gibbs who was waiting impatiently. A nurse fortunately showed up with a few pillows which were wedged strategically here and there which allowed him to relax finally yet keep weight off his shoulder. An orderly stepped into the room with a wary glance at Gibbs, and gingerly held out a hot steaming cup of fresh coffee to him before rapidly retreating. Gibbs smirked.

"How you doin', DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked softly.

"M'fine, boss," not bothering to open his eyes. He heard a soft snort from Gibbs.

"So, you wanna tell me about what happened between you and Ziva?"

As much as he tried, he couldn't stop the rush of anger and feelings of guilt that flooded him. His breathing hitched as he took a deeper breath than he should. "Nothing much to tell. She was angry, and I must have pushed her a bit too hard. She pushed back." He snorted under his breath. "Literally, as in right off my feet to land on concrete," he added softly. He could remember her eyes blazing with hostile frustration as he listened to her harsh words, knowing that things might never go back to how they'd been before Rivkin had shown up.

As an unexpected wave of despair washed through him, he wanted to grab her arms and shake her hard, demanding to know how she could have been so foolish. She had to know Rivkin had been drinking far too much, had to know _something_ about what he had been doing in the US – vacation just didn't cut it for an excuse. He was her partner, and surely she must know he'd been trying to give her a chance to explain what was going on – how that laptop had gotten in her apartment in the first place. This whole thing had turned into one big screw up. Why hadn't she trusted him? _Why_?

"Tony," Gibbs quietly interrupted his thoughts. "You were trying to protect her. You did nothing wrong."

Tony replied, voice harsh and full of self-recrimination, "Right. Why'd she shove a loaded Sig into my chest then? I thought for sure she was going to kill me right on the spot. Does she hate me that much now? I didn't go to her apartment to kill Rivkin. I didn't even know he was there, though I probably should have suspected it, since he hadn't listened to all the other warnings to leave." His voice had risen in volume until he was practically shouting at the end. The pain of taking a deep breath afterward brought him crashing back down. He groaned at the pain radiating across his back.

He felt a warm hand brush the back of his head, "Easy. Relax." As the hand continues to stroke his hair, he finally was able to slow his breathing down, and the pain lessened.

"What am I going to do, Gibbs?" he said in a half-whisper, "I don't know if she'll want to work with me now. And with Vance out for blood, I'll probably be posted to who knows where, if not fired."

Gibbs changed from lightly stroking his hair to a gentle head-slap. "You're not going anywhere. Vance won't be sending you anywhere. You impressed him with opening Eli David up the way you did."

Tony cautiously looked up at Gibbs, "What?"

"Eli David wasn't the only one who realized that he'd underestimated you. Vance was suitably surprised. I suspect he's having a case of second-guessing himself. About time." Gibbs raised one side of his mouth in a half-smile, eyes amused.

Tony regarded him with a touch of skepticism. Before he could reply though, Brad Pitt entered the room.

"Tony, I swear you're gonna give all of us gray hair if you keep this up." Brad told Tony. "Broken ribs? You know how dangerous those are to you."

Tony half-grinned at him, "Sorry. Wasn't my idea, Brad."

"Well, we're gonna see more of each other in the near future, I suspect." He consulted the chart in his hands. "Broken scapula you already know about. Two broken ribs just under the lower edge of the scapula in your back, extensive bruising across your upper and mid-back region, a new bruise in the center of your chest from a blow that came close to breaking your sternum. You haven't damaged the lower arm further - looks like the cast protected it. I want you back in three or four days for a recheck. Blows hard enough to break your scapula often cause internal injuries, and we don't want to miss a slow bleed that might show up later. And, of course, there are all the previous injuries you're still dealing with."

Brad turned serious, "Those broken ribs are in a bad place, Tony. If they shift and puncture your lung, it'll mean fairly major surgery to repair the damage. I'll be talking to a top-notch surgeon later this morning about possibly surgically repairing the ribs to remove that danger, and he could repair the scapula at the same time. Reduce the healing time, and almost eliminate the pain you're in right now."

Tony scrunched up his nose at the idea, "Is it absolutely necessary?"

"It'd be a very smart thing to do." Brad turned to Gibbs in an appeal to back him up. Tony saw that and his expression turned stubborn.

Gibbs saw Tony slip into his mulish mode, and knew it'd be a battle to get him to agree. "Talk to the surgeon, Brad. For now, we'll hold off. Does DiNozzo need to stay here, or will he be ok with supervision."

Tony opened his mouth to protest, but Gibbs raised an eyebrow at him, and he shut up.

Brad smirked. "I think he should stay for a day or two for observation, but knowing Tony, he'd spend more time trying to escape than resting. As long as you keep a close eye on him, make sure he eats, and gets a decent amount of rest, he'll probably do better with you than here."

Handing Gibbs the scripts for the medications he wanted Tony on, and a sheaf of discharge papers, he went down a list of symptoms to monitor in Tony, and instructions on rest and a medication schedule.

Tony pouted while listening to Brad and his boss, "I'm right here you know."

Brad nodded, "And I know that 99% of what I'm saying is going in one of your ears and right out the other. Now, be quiet while I finish." After a minute more with Gibbs and a wave at Tony, Brad headed off to find an orderly and wheelchair for Tony.

As the two men headed off to headquarters, Tony took a deep figurative breath of relief at having escaped. Now, all he had to do was survive the day at work….


	3. Chapter 3

_**I know it's not nice to stare, but I can't stop looking at the reviews! I'm so surprised (and delighted) that you could knock me over with a feather. I'm glad so many of you are enjoying this tale and hope I don't disappoint as it progresses. Thank you to each and every one of you who's reviewed for taking the time to share your thoughts! **_

_**This chapter sets the stage for the main plot line of this story. Lots of twists and turns coming. If only so Scouse doesn't manage a direct hit on my posterior for not going faster! **_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS, just borrowing the characters for a little fun.**_

Chapter 3

Vance silently sighed as he listened to Eli David continue to rant on about DiNozzo's depraved, immature, and defective character, interspersed with assertions on DiNozzo's reckless and out-of-control behavior, citing his jealousy of Rivkin's relationship with his daughter as motive for his deliberate and premeditated murder of the Mossad operative.

He glanced at the short directive from the SecNav's office ordering NCIS to cede lead to the FBI in the joint investigation of the bombing of Ziva's apartment. NCIS still retained lead in the joint investigation into the death of ICE Agent Tom Sherman. State was just becoming aware that something had happened, and who knows what might happen when they got involved.

Vance knew Director David had heard of the on-going investigations and wanted them stopped. He knew the results of the investigations would reveal Israeli foreign operatives working inside the US with orders to kill if they deemed it necessary to accomplish their mission, even if it interfered with the government's ability to conduct its own investigation into the terrorists' activities. If the media got wind of that it could lead to a falling out between the two countries.

Vance wondered how far up the political ladder the Mossad Director was willing to go in his effort to shut the investigations down. Shaking his head, he wondered again how this whole situation had gotten so badly out of control.

His attention came sharply back into focus on the phone call when Eli David paused before continuing in a dangerously quiet tone, "I hope you will see reason here, Leon. Neither of us wants to see hard feelings develop between our two countries. All we want is DiNozzo sent here to stand trial. I hope we can come to an agreement without having to resort to other….measures."

Vance's eyes narrowed as his thoughts raced. What was Eli David implying? And why? As soon as the latter question popped into his mind he knew the answer. With DiNozzo tried and convicted of the murder of a Mossad Officer, Israel would gain the high ground in this political mess. A Federal Agent had killed a Mossad operative in a fit of rage and jealousy, and any investigation here would be perceived as an effort to muddy the waters in an effort to cover it up.

Cautiously, Vance asked the Director, "Other measures? What are we talking about here, Eli?"

"I think you know what I'm talking about, Leon. This isn't our first rodeo, I think the saying goes. We will do what is necessary to keep our operatives safe, including sending a clear message to the world that there will be consequences for murdering one of our officers.

"Now I know you and I don't want to get to that point. It would lead to nothing but trouble between our two countries and the political climate is such that it wouldn't be the best ending to this whole distasteful mess. Just turn DiNozzo over to our embassy staff and we'll take care of things from there. I will even guarantee you that he won't be interrogated or treated harshly before or during the trial.

"Think about it. Then call me when you are ready. Shalom, my friend." And with that, David hung up on Vance.

Placing the receiver into its cradle, Vance frowned, his mind racing. He knew Eli had a personal stake in the events of the last few days; after all, it was his daughter who had been involved and supposedly wronged when her lover had been killed. Were his motivations that of an angry father, or that of the powerful Director of Mossad protecting his assets. Did it matter? Had he sought approval from the Prime Minister or Foreign Minister before issuing his threats?

His thoughts turned to DiNozzo. While he still thought of the agent as a pain in the ass, after watching him deftly manipulate David into revealing something he certainly didn't want known, all within a few minutes of meeting the man, while exhausted and in pain from a fight to the death with a Kidon assassin (who was drunk but still….), and after a long rough plane ride - he wasn't going to fall into the trap of disregarding fresh evidence that challenged his view of DiNozzo.

Gibbs didn't seem surprised at the result of the interrogation, obviously confident of his SFA's abilities. And if DiNozzo was up to tolerating the extremes of Gibbs' behavior at times without quitting or decking the team leader, then maybe it was time for him to update his opinion about the man….even if he was still a pain in his side.

Time to start with damage control, he thought. Damned if he'd let Eli David threaten the safety of one of his agents. Contacting his secretary, he ordered her to find Gibbs and have him report to his office immediately. It was time to start making plans.

-000-

Striding into Abby's lab, Gibbs winced inwardly at the sight of his SFA bracing himself in front of an angry Ziva; McGee hovering a bit behind Tony as if ready to defend him from an attack. Abby stood off to the side, biting her lower lip, hand half raised toward a desk phone, watching worriedly.

Stepping between DiNozzo and Ziva, he moved close to Ziva, lowering his voice. "You need to go back to your desk. Don't come back to the lab until I say you can."

Gaping at him, shocked, she demanded, "Why?"

"There is an on-going investigation that you cannot be a part of. Go back to your desk and work on cold cases."

"What about _him_?"

"Go. Don't make me say it again." Stepping even closer, he lowered his voice until only she could hear, "And I do not want to find you threatening DiNozzo or assaulting him. Do I make myself clear?"

After a long pause, her face went blank, and she stepped back stiffly, "Very well." She pivoted and walked briskly out of the room. _Time enough to privately corner and deal with Tony later she promised herself, still fuming at his deceitful and resentful murder of Michael ._

Waiting until Ziva had entered the elevator, he then turned to DiNozzo, noting his pallor and pinched expression, knowing the visit to the hospital, following a restless night, had drained him of what little reserves he had.

Before he could speak, his cell rang. "Yeah, Gibbs." After a few seconds, he disconnected the call. "Tony, go rest," pointing towards the inner lab. "I'll be back soon. Don't leave."

Tony asked, "What about the postponed meeting with Vance?"

Gibbs turned and left, tossing, "Abs, make sure he rests," over his shoulder.

-000-

Walking into Vance's office, he closed the door behind him. "Leon?"

Pointing at the conference table, Vance said, "We have a serious problem, Gibbs. Where's DiNozzo?"

"Abby's lab, resting."

Vance asked, "Hospital report?"

"Broken shoulder blade, a couple of cracked ribs in his back, more bruises. Until they heal, the cracked ribs may puncture his lung. He's got to be careful." He considered whether to share how DiNozzo'd received the new injuries with Vance, but knew he'd need to know eventually, "Ziva struck him, knocking him off his feet and flat on his back - threatened him at gunpoint."

Looking troubled, Vance asked, "What do you want to do with her?"

"For now, she's working on cold cases. She can't be a part of this investigation." Gibbs took a deep breath, "Neither can DiNozzo. At least until he's cleared by IA."

Nodding, Vance said, "I want IA to do his interview this afternoon, get it out of the way. Will he be ready for it?"

Nodding, Gibbs said, "He'll manage."

"With Ducky's review of his medical records confirming DiNozzo's accounting, it should be straightforward. The IA team already has been provided background documentation on what happened so they are prepared for the interview. They'll decide if they want to interview Officer David after they talk with DiNozzo." Vance shuffled some papers aside, before looking up. "We have another problem to deal with. Eli David called, and…"

A knock at his door stopped him, and both turned to see Fornell enter, close the door, and make his way to the conference table. "Good, I was hoping to find both of you together." Tossing down a stack of folders, he sat, "We have new intel on what happened at the SecNav's house." Looking at both, he continued, "And you're not going to like it."


	4. Chapter 4

_**Pinch me! Never in my wildest dreams could I imagine I'd find this many people interested in my first story. I'm dazed and keep expecting to wake up and find it's all the result of a chocolate overdose. Thank you, thank you, thank you to all who've reviewed! **_

_**Onward to lifting up the edge of events and seeing what's been waiting to be discovered under there. Not much Tony in this chapter, but he'll be back – honest!**_

_**Not a gadget expert so what Abby's found is imagination at work to keep the story going.**_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS, just borrowing the characters for a little fun.**_

Chapter 4

Vance sat back in his chair, adjusting his tie, "Ok, lay it out."

Taking a seat, Fornell glanced at Gibbs, "How was Israel?"

Gibbs sent him a sour look as he reached out and snagged one of the folders Fornell had brought with him.

Fornell slid a folder to Vance, before opening another, "Photos. Took a bit of work, but we managed to track a person from just outside the SecNav's property to….well…" He handed out a couple of street maps marked with a long line of sequential numbers from one side to the other, tracing out a path.

"Left side, marker one is the SecNav's residence," he pointed. "Each marker's ID points to its corresponding photo," he spread out a sheaf of photos, "of the intruder who we assume killed Agent Sherman based on timing. Fortunately, the neighborhood there has an abundance of security systems, including surveillance video and infra-red systems. Photo and video sources transition then to ATM, store security, and traffic control cameras, then as the suspect moves into the core DC area, the regular street-level security cameras supplemented the other sources. We were able to track the suspect almost continuously."

Both Vance and Gibbs leafed through the photos of a dark, shadowy man on foot, then the man driving a non-descript sedan. Even in the more well-lit areas, the man kept his face in shadow. Vance asked, "Were you able to run this guy through your face-recognition system? I don't see any good photos of him here."

Fornell passed out one more folder to each. "This folder contains photos we obtained from security cameras at his final destination. We didn't need to by then. We knew who he was. What was interesting was the location."

The photo he took out from his folder was of an apartment hallway, and the man was opening the door to one of the apartments with a key. "The apartment belongs to Officer Ziva David." Gibbs and Vance stared at the photo, at a man both knew. Michael Rivkin.

Gibbs scowled and tossed the photos on the table. "You're a fountain of good news tonight, Tobias."

Handing out yet another folder with far fewer photos, each annotated on their backs, Fornell explained, "These are some of the photos we've started pulling together from around the apartment complex where Abin Tabal was killed. We have a team in LA doing the same for the member of the cell that Rivkin killed there. These photos show Rivkin was in the area when Tabal was killed.

"We've…well, NSA actually, has identified and traced several cell calls from Rivkin to Israel, specifically Mossad." He passed out a single sheet to each with call logs of several phone numbers. "The locations, dates, and times where the calls originated further tie Rivkin to the murders."

"If you'll notice, these same cell phones also made calls to Officer David's cell number, and a handful to NCIS also. David's line I assume. I believe McGee can verify that and you'll let me know?

"NSA is working on decrypting the calls. Might take a while – Mossad has excellent encryption systems." He snorted and grinned, "But then, they don't have the NSA working for them, do they."

Tossing the documents onto the table, Gibbs sat back and asked, "That all?"

Fornell shook his head, "Not even a thank you. You're welcome by the way." He turned to Vance. "We expect a briefing on what you turned up on these calls to David." He looked directly at Gibbs, wary, "You know, right now it isn't looking good for her."

Gibbs stared at Fornell, face expressionless. He knew where this was headed, and he was unhappy with the implications. And he was angry with Ziva for her careless actions, her stubborn refusal to discipline her attitude, and her arrogance in believing that her expertise and identity as a Mossad spy granted her the right to create her own rules of behavior. It would come back to bite her eventually.

McGee and Abby were still working on the emails on the laptop found in her apartment. And he wasn't looking forward to finding out the content of those phone calls between Ziva and Rivkin when the NSA finished their decrypting.

Vance stood up and poured himself a drink, looking worried. "What's the end game here? Especially with Rivkin dead."

Fornell understood Vance's underlying concern, "At a minimum, we need more information on this terrorist cell. Mossad has more on this than they're sharing. We need to know what the terrorists were doing, what they were planning, and if the plan's been short-circuited or is still ongoing."

Sitting back down, Vance wearily said, "And?"

"It's imperative we find out what Mossad is not sharing." Fornell glanced at Gibbs, then back at the call logs. "We want to question Officer David."

Both the other two men knew that this was why Fornell had readily shared what he had on the phone logs and on Rivkin's activities. The FBI had shown more than ample cause for interrogating Ziva on what she knew about Rivkin and his mission. Given the proof of Rivkin's contact with Ziva, NCIS could do nothing but agree.

Gibbs ran a hand across his face, his gut churning. With just what had been uncovered so far, he knew she'd have to come up with compelling reasons to explain her actions, or she would find herself back in Israel and off the team at a minimum.

His phone rang, and he answered it. After several seconds, he hung up, rising, "It's Abby. She and McGee have something." Fornell stood, and after a long look at him, Gibbs seemed to deflate. With a nod, he told Fornell, "Might as well come. It involves Rivkin, and I doubt it's good news."

-000-

As the three men entered the lab, Abby looked up from the lab table where she'd been working. McGee sat across from her with the partially assembled laptop on the table next to him, his attention glued to the monitor in front of him.

Tony stood up from where he'd been looking over McGee's shoulder, watching him work. His eyes darted to Vance and Fornell before turning to Gibbs, trying to figure out what was coming, and to remain calm. The dark circles under his eyes looked worse than they had just that morning.

Vance glanced at his watch, then spoke to DiNozzo, "Special Agent DiNozzo, if you're up to it I want you to report to the IA office for the post-shooting interview. You're not officially scheduled to report for another hour, but Special Agent Morris can adjust his schedule to accommodate your early arrival. When you're done, report directly to my office."

Tony stood slowly and nodded, "Yes, sir." Without another look at anyone present, he left the lab heading for the elevator, face expressionless.

Fornell gave a Gibbs a sympathetic grimace, which Gibbs ignored.

Abby chewed on her lower lip, worried about Tony. Gibbs prompted her, "What do you have, Abby?" She fidgeted, until Vance added, "Ms. Sciuto?" With a glare at the Director, she spun to the lab table, scolding Gibbs over her shoulder, "You should have gone with him, Gibbs. He's a mess right now."

"He'll be fine, Abby. Now what have you got for us?"

With a delicate hemostat clamped to an edge, she lifted the listening device that had been found at the SecNav's house which she'd so carefully pieced back together and slipped it under a microscope, focusing it carefully, before togging the display so it mirrored the view to the large plasma screen.

"After reassembling what _Jules_ so stupidly smashed, I was able to do a detailed analysis of this listening device. At first glance, it appears to be a rather sophisticated device that uses wi-fi with a burst transmission mode to send what it recorded. Its range is pretty limited, and the battery life short, indicating that it was only intended to be in use for a short time – a couple of hours max. Not a common device, but not out on the cutting edge of technology either. Pricey, but it can be either picked up at a well stocked electronics shop or from a few internet vendors.

"But," she said clomping up to join the three men at the plasma display, "all is not as it seems on the outside. I almost missed it." Returning to the microscope, she took a slender probe and carefully pried the device open, exposing a circuit board. "Nothing special about the circuit board either at first glance. None of the markings are unusual. But…."

Abby changed the resolution on the microscope, magnifying the edge of the circuit board even further. Taking up an even smaller probe, she slowly and carefully pried at the edge of the circuit board, exposing what looked like another layer of circuits on a very thin, almost translucent board sandwiched in-between split layers of the outer circuit board.

"I had to use specialized tests to show the details of this hidden layer since prying it apart further would have damaged it." Abby turned to her keyboard and toggled another image up of what appeared to be an x-ray of a small circuit board. "This is a schematic of the hidden board."

She returned to stand with the men who were studying the image. Vance spoke, "What is it? And what does it do? Can you read any of the identifiers stamped on the board?"

Abby beamed, "It's the actual device. The outer circuit board was just a dummy. It has a specialized connector to the outer shell, using it to amplify its range out to double that of the dummy bug. A receiver could be a good 30 meters away and still pick up its transmission. And, it's much more sensitive to noise levels; it'd easily pick up conversations in the room."

Gibbs turned to Abby, "Where could someone get a bug like this?"

Abby spun on her heel, looking smug as she headed back to her computer, inordinately please with what she'd found. "It isn't available on the open market. In fact, there's only one place it's manufactured, and it's used by only one agency." With a couple of keystrokes, she brought up a map, centering the display on one country. Israel. "Mossad."

Fornell turned from the display, shaking his head, incredulous, "What in hell? Mossad couldn't be that careless. What are they up to?"

Vance replied, "Good question."

McGee spun his chair around to face them, "I might have an answer, or a part of one at least."

As the three men gathered around him, he turned back to his display and brought up a list of documents on the laptop. "These are emails from Rivkin that we've managed to decrypt and translate from Hebrew." He clicked on one email after another, displaying the contents, highlighted phrases drawing attention to key text in each.

"There are still several dozen emails left to work on still, but the ones here - they're reports to a handful of other operatives and controllers in which he details his activities and receives orders. Several have to do with tracking members of the terrorist cell we're working on now. Dates indicate this operation started several months ago with the murder of a Mossad agent by someone in this group." McGee pointed out dates and phrases in several emails that the men scanned over his shoulder.

"What's interesting though were indications in the more recent emails that things weren't going as well as expected. It seems as though his control officer was not happy with some of the intel Rivkin had been sending back; deadlines were being missed, information either inaccurate or incomplete. Demands for explanations started about two months ago, and it looks like the problems had been increasing rather than getting better." Spinning his chair partially around, he looked up at the men, "If Rivkin had been having problems he might have been careless about placing the bug."

McGee closed the emails, then brought up several with more recent dates. "These emails were sent to Ziva, and her replies. The first explained he was traveling to the US "on business" and said he was looking forward to stopping in DC for a few days to visit with her.

"The next were sent while we were in LA working with OSP. He mentioned he'd run afoul of NCIS 'again' while in LA, and was on his way back to DC. He'd asked Ziva if she had any new intel on the 'death of the agent' at the 'meeting,' and specifically if they'd found any physical evidence left behind that might indicate the identity of intruder. He'd also asked her if she could find out more on the investigation into Chandler's murder. He'd hinted of an unfinished job he had in DC, and was looking forward to seeing her again."

Shifting uneasily in his chair, McGee quickly flipped through several more emails. "These shorter emails are in some sort of shorthand between them, dates, two or three words that won't translate from Hebrew. Someone who knows it might be able to make sense of its meaning."

Closing the last of the emails that he had brought up, he stared at the screen, tense, swallowing hard. Gibbs moved and propped himself on the edge of the table facing McGee. He waited.

It didn't take long before McGee spun his chair around to face Gibbs. "There were a few emails that were…that…," he grimaced, not pleased. "They were talking about Tony."

Fornell half laughed, "Third wheel?"

Abby took two quick steps towards Fornell, getting into his face, ruby red lips scowling, eyes narrowed and furious, "Don't you _dare_ say anything bad about Tony, do you hear me?" She stabbed him in the shoulder hard with one rigid finger, before her fists planted themselves firmly on her hips, staring the FBI agent down.

McGee turned to glare at Fornell, his expression harsh and angry. Gibbs added his glare at Fornell, who decided to refrain from further comment, sidling slightly away from Abby nervously. McGee continued, "They were…at first they were joking, saying Tony was upset because Rivkin was in town. Ziva said he was jealous, and that she was angry because Tony wouldn't stop trying to find out more about Rivkin. She told Rivkin she'd made it clear to Tony to stay out of their business, and that she would have to do something about it if he didn't back off. Rivkin said he was an idiot, called him 'Agent Meatball'. He said he'd 'take care of him' if he ran across him."

Gibbs spoke, "I told him to stay on Rivkin. He was suspicious about what Rivkin was doing in DC."

McGee looked to Gibbs, "Ziva, she doesn't really think Tony is…she's worked with him for years now. How could she think Tony is incompetent?"

Gibbs replied with a reassuring half smile, "Don't worry about it."

Vance straightened up looking disturbed, "Thank you, Ms. Sciuto, Special Agent McGee. Please continue with your work. McGee, call in a linguist if you need, but get the rest of those emails translated."

He started towards the door, but turned back, "Do not share any of this with Officer David, either of you. Report your findings directly to Gibbs or me only." After both acknowledged his orders, he headed for the elevator, "Gentlemen, there's more to discuss. And after hearing McGee's report on those emails, you're not going to like what I have to add."


	5. Chapter 5

_**Ok, I've given up being astonished about the number of you fantastic people out there enjoying this little yarn – it's just too….extraordinary! Surprising! Amazing! Incredible! It's oh so close to the joy one can experience wallowing around solo in a vat of rich, dark chocolate with a spoon. Thank you to each and every one of you who've taken the time to share your delight! I'm placing a chocolate kiss on each of your pillows tonight.**_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS, just borrowing the characters for a little fun.**_

Chapter 5

"Sit, both of you." Vance placed both his hands flat on the conference table in his office and stood head bowed for a long moment to rein in his disgust at Eli David. Straightening, he looked at Gibbs, "Eli David called earlier. He's demanding DiNozzo be turned over to Israel to stand trial for the murder of Officer Rivkin."

Gibbs eyes narrowed dangerously, "DiNozzo didn't murder Rivkin. It was self-defense."

Vance nodded, "I agree. However, that isn't how David is viewing it. And, to complicate things further, he's threatened to have DiNozzo kidnapped if we don't turn him over. There's a good chance he'd order his assassination if he can't find a way to kidnap him."

Fornell shook his head, "He can't be serious," he said in disbelief.

"Oh, I assure you, he's quite serious, which complicates things considerably. This whole damn liaison position with Mossad that Shepard set up is going to blow up in our face. I'm going to brief the SecNav on this as soon as we're finished here, and I suspect we're going to have to bring State in on this also."

Turning to Fornell, he asked, "How soon do you think it'll take for your people to finish their investigation into Rivkin? We need hard irrefutable evidence of his involvement in the death of Agent Sherman and the terrorist cell members both here and in LA to back up our statements of his activities."

Fornell took several seconds to tally an estimate in his head before responding, "With our on-going joint efforts, I think we can nail it down within a day of NSA breaking those decryptions. I'll get on them again and see where they're at."

Vance told Gibbs, "Organize and double-check everything we have. Those emails, the listening device, Dr. Mallard's autopsy results, his analysis of Rivkin and DiNozzo's reported injuries after their altercation; coordinate with Fornell to plug any holes. Use whatever resources you need to get it done."

Fornell stated, "I'll check with the CIA on this terrorist cell. If Rivkin has been chasing leads down in Europe and the Mideast for a couple of months now, they might have some info on it."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow, looking askance at Fornell, "You think you'll get a straight answer from them? Or any answer?"

With a shrug, Fornell replied, "If they don't wanna play nice, then I'll let our director duke it out with their director. I think I should call Justice and brief them too. I know some of their people, and they can help deal with State if needed."

Gibbs spoke then, "And DiNozzo?"

Vance bit his toothpick in half. Discarding the broken pieces, he said in a tone that was flat and final, "They're not going to get away with kidnapping or killing any agent of mine. Period." Addressing both of them, he ordered, "I want ideas. If Kidon teams are after him, we're going to have to go above and beyond to him safe."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at Vance, "Monitor incoming Israelis with recently issued visas?"

Vance looked to Fornell who nodded, "I'll issue an alert to ICE to notify the FBI."

Vance's cell rang. "Vance." He listened for a short while then said, "Thank you, Special Agent Morris. Please submit your written report as soon as possible." He ended the call, "IA has cleared DiNozzo - justified shooting, self-defense. Did DiNozzo have time for his mandatory psych evaluation before we left for Tel Aviv?"

Shaking his head, Gibbs answered, "He hasn't had enough time free to meet with them."

"When he gets back, walk him down there and don't leave until he's had been cleared, then fill him in. Have him head a team to consolidate all the information on Rivkin's activities here in DC and in LA. He can coordinate with the FBI to add in their information."

Gibbs nodded. "It's going to be difficult to work on this with Ziva in the bullpen at the same time. How do you want to handle that?"

Fornell added, "What about questioning her?"

Vance leaned back, contemplating the ceiling while he thought. Focusing on Fornell, he said, "I want as much evidence as possible in hand before we question her. We may not get a second interview, and I want to get as much out of her as I can first time round." To Gibbs he ordered, "Place her on paid administrative leave for now. And restrict her access to our systems until this has been cleared up. Take her badge and weapon before she leaves the building."

Gibbs nodded. He wasn't looking forward to her reaction to this news. But the image of DiNozzo flat on his back with an angry Mossad officer standing over him pointing a loaded weapon at him flashed in his mind. Until she could show more self-control, he didn't want her near an injured DiNozzo.

As Vance returned to his desk to start making phone calls, Gibbs and Fornell collected up the papers Fornell had brought with him earlier before leaving. Gibbs went in search of coffee, before hunting DiNozzo and Ziva down.

-000-

As Tony sat down at his desk, Ziva rose and approached him, expression ruthless, "Where have you been?"

Looking up at her, Tony asked, "What?" While it had been the fastest IA interview he'd ever had, just going through the memories of the fight and aftermath had been hard. His head and shoulder were throbbing and aching, and he felt like his one remaining nerve had been stretched to the breaking point. The last thing he wanted was to deal with Ziva when she was in a bad mood.

Rounding the corner of his desk, she leaned down and hissed, "Stop hiding, you coward. Hiding your shame behind Abby's skirts in her lab will not make any of what happened go away. Everyone will know what kind of person you are who murders for jealousy!" Her voice rose until she was shouting at the end, fists clenched. Around them, the whole floor went silent as everyone turned to watch.

A flush of anger and exasperation flooded through Tony as he rose to his feet, getting into her personal space. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down before he said something that got him maimed or worse. He ordered her, eyes hard and serious, face cold, his voice that of a cop laying down the law, "If you have problem with me, you will wait until we can discuss it in private, Officer David."

As one hand slipped back towards the hilt of her knife, Ziva said in a deadly quiet tone, "You will not tell me what I can or will do. You are not Gibbs."

Reaching his limit finally, Tony gave up all hope of expecting civility and professionalism from his teammate in her current frame of mind. Eyes narrowed, he stepped closer forcing her to retreat from him a half step by his sheer physical presence. "As long as you are a member of this team, you will do what the Senior Field Agent orders you to do in the absence of the Team Leader. It has to do with the whole concept of the chain of command. Something that you, with your military training and experience, should understand well." Eyeing her skeptically, he continued, "What are you going to do, Ziva? Stab me in the middle of the bullpen in front of a dozen witnesses? Are you really that angry and out of your mind? What happened to that vaunted Mossad self-control of yours?"

Breathing heavily, Ziva pulled her hand away from the knife, bracing herself, as close to losing control as she'd ever been. Sharp and mocking she spat, "You murdered Michael. It is you who lost control of yourself. You are weak and jealous. I do not know why Gibbs puts up with you."

With a grim half-smile, Tony replied, "Mossad has a real problem with its research and analysis, you know. They have self-imposed blinders on what they believe motivates people. If it isn't a political statement, or a religious fatwa, it must be jealousy."

"It _was_ jealousy! You could not stand the idea that I might be interested in someone else."

"Don't flatter yourself, David. What I can't stand is someone interfering with our ability to do our job. Not to mention killing a federal agent doing his job. And since when does it matter whether I personally knew the agent or not? What sort of screwed up thinking is that? Your father is a real winner there, Ziva."

Spinning around, Ziva struck out in anger at the filing cabinet in front of her, knocking it several inches away and leaving a deep dent in its side. Some of the watchers jumped at the noise; several agents taking a step or two towards them.

In a mocking tone, Tony asked, "Feel better now?"

Turning back to him, Ziva raised her fist. Tony stepped back out of range. She started to follow, but stopped when Gibbs, entering the bullpen, broke in with a cutting and sharp growl, demanding attention, "Officer David."

She pivoted to face him, almost vibrating with frustration. She glanced bitterly at DiNozzo out of the corner of her eye. "Yes, Gibbs."

"You're being placed on paid administrative leave until this investigation is over. I need your badge and weapon. Your duty station during work hours is your residence. Unless directed otherwise, you will be available to work on whatever is assigned to you from your residence." He watched as she struggled to contain her surprise.

"What are you saying, Gibbs? Am I being suspended? Why?"

He stepped closer to her, lowering his voice, "Standard procedure, Officer David."

Her face now stony, she asked in a flat voice, "And Tony?"

"Not your concern."

After a long pause during which Gibbs could see her struggle to control her emotions, she pulled her badge from her belt where it was clipped, and held it out to him. As he took it, she moved to her desk, opened the side drawer to retrieve her Sig Saur. Ejecting the magazine and clearing the chamber, she held both out to him. Bending to retrieve her belongings, she stared at Tony, face emotionless, yet all the more alarming for it. Not bothering with the elevator, she stormed down the stairs and out of sight.

Behind Gibbs, Tony felt his stomach clench in a mix of surprise and alarm. What just happened? He looked at Gibbs trying to read his expression. Was Ziva under investigation now? Had something happened while he was gone? What was going on?

Turning towards him, her badge and weapon in his hands, Gibbs studied him for a moment, cataloging the increased signs of pain and exhaustion, promising himself to take him down to Ducky for some rest and pain meds as soon as possible. "With me, DiNozzo." Pausing long enough to secure the weapon in a desk drawer, he headed off towards the psych service offices.

Tony jumped to follow him, asking, "Gibbs, what's going on? Why is she on admin leave?"

Stopping to face him, Gibbs debated how much to tell him at the moment, especially heading into a psych evaluation. "I'll brief you when you're finished."

"Where are we going?"

"Mandatory psych evaluation. Get through it, and get cleared for work. We've got a major problem to deal with."

Tony could see a glimpse of worry in Gibbs' face, and it set Tony's alarm bells ringing. Something _had_ happened. He felt his gut turn over with renewed worry. What the hell?

**A/N: Next chapter probably won't be posted until Monday. The cat rescue work sucks up all my time from Friday night to late Sunday. Sorry!**


	6. Chapter 6

_**This is a bit of a bridging chapter from NCIS assessing and planning their response to Director David's threats to the consequences of not acceding to his demands. Poor Tony. If he only knew what was coming…**_

_**I apologize for not thanking all the reviewers personally. I am trying! **_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS, just borrowing the characters for a little fun.**_

Chapter 6

The feeling of satisfaction over sliding through the mandatory psych session by snowing under a newly hired counselor gave way to a return of worry and concern as Tony followed Gibbs into a conference room. Maybe he'd find out now what had Gibbs so tense and what was going on with Ziva. Finding the whole team minus Ziva waiting in the room was a bit of a surprise. He slid tiredly into a chair, raising a faint questioning eyebrow in McGee's direction, only to have Tim minutely shake his head indicating he had no idea what was going on either.

Ducky had taken in Tony's obvious run down state at a glance and scowled, "Anthony, you are supposed to be on light desk duty, which you obviously have not been doing. Do I have to order you home to rest, young man?"

Gibbs cut Ducky off, "We have a problem we have to deal with first, Duck." Taking a sip of a fresh cup of coffee (where had that come from, Tony wondered), Gibbs turned his attention to the team.

"DiNozzo's been cleared by IA, and through with the mandatory psych evaluation." He looked DiNozzo in the eye, "You are still on limited desk duty. Don't push it or you'll be riding a desk until your butt has calluses." Tony mentally crossed his fingers and nodded, though he suspected Gibbs knew exactly what he was thinking anyway.

"McGee, what's the status of those emails?" Gibbs barked.

"Ah…they're all decrypted, and a linguist should have the last of them translated by the end of the day."

Tony leaned forward listening intently as first McGee, then Abby summarized their findings. Listening to the litany of Rivkin's activities had him feeling disgusted and angry at the man, but Ziva's complicity – that was hard to swallow. _What had she been thinking? _As McGee reported on the comments Rivkin and she had made about his suspicions and inquiries into Rivkin's activities, he began to seriously wonder whether she considered herself his partner. His gut twisted as he thought about Danny Price, and now….her? Or was there something wrong with _him_ that pushed partners away?

As they finished, Gibbs added, "Tony, I want you to pull together a team to compile the results of investigation – here, in LA, and what the FBI's found, along with the NSA's findings. Plug the holes. I want a complete report as soon as possible. McGee, help him."

McGee nodded, "Got it, boss." After a second of hesitation, he continued, "Boss, why are we still investigating Rivkin? He's dead. We can't charge him with anything."

When Gibbs locked eyes with his SFA, Tony got that sick feeling again that he was teetering on the edge of a precipice. He swallowed down on the bile burning his throat as his gut tensed up. Gibbs said softly, "Director David has demanded DiNozzo be turned over to Israel to stand trial for the murder of Officer Rivkin. If we don't comply, he has threatened to kidnap or possibly even assassinate DiNozzo."

McGee turned white in shock. Ducky took Abby into his arms and she gasped, shaking her head, tears starting to well up in her eyes. Palmer sat looking lost and uncertain. Gibbs attention was fixed on DiNozzo though, watching as his SFA's eyes widened in surprise and shock before he bolted out the door and headed for the nearby restroom.

Standing, Gibbs hit the desk with his fist to get everyone's attention. "Work on that report. State will be involved in this, along with Justice, and they need that proof. Help get it done."

Abby scowled, "What about Ziva?"

"She needs time to get her head on straight. She's in a bad place right now, and isn't thinking clearly. Do not talk to her about the investigation. She's been placed on administrative leave - you see her in the building then you let Vance or me know immediately." Gibbs hesitated, and added, "She's threatened DiNozzo. I don't want them meeting."

Gibbs left the conference room to search for his missing agent. Worried, he knew DiNozzo was going to need more than the support of the team if he's going to survive this mess. Damn Rivkin. Damn David. Damn all of this for crashing down on DiNozzo's head. He wondered how long it would take for DiNozzo's remarkable ability to accept responsibility for anything bad happening to those he cared about to bring him to the point of offering himself up as a sacrifice to keep everyone safe. _Not gonna happen. Not on his watch. Not to his agent. Not to his friend. _

-000-

Gibbs found his SFA in the restroom on his knees in front of a toilet, leaning against the side of the stall , head hanging, staring at nothing. His face was sweaty, and still pale, and he was breathing quickly as he fought to control his nausea. Wetting down a handful of paper towels with cool water, Gibbs moved to kneel down next to DiNozzo, wincing as his knees popped. He passed the towels to Tony and put a supportive hand on his shoulder.

"You don't deserve this, Tony."

Tony looked up at Gibbs, wiping the sweat from his face. "How do you figure that, boss?" He felt like he'd gone ten rounds with Gibbs in a bad mood, muscles aching, beyond exhausted, his shoulder throbbing in time with his heartbeat. A shiver, more sensed than felt, settled in his stomach, stirring up his already nauseated gut.

Settling down beside his agent, Gibbs said, "You were doing your job." He squeezed Tony's shoulder again, "You did exactly what you should have done. There's a reason you're my senior field agent, and you proved it yet again during this investigation. Rule five."

After giving Tony a moment to absorb his words, he continued, "Eli David made the decision to send Rivkin here with orders he knew were problematic. Rivkin was having his own problems and made one bad tactical decision after another. And Ziva let her emotions override her judgment."

Settling his head back against the wall, Tony closed his eyes, mixed feelings of failure, guilt, and anger taking turns in his head. He'd failed Ziva, failed to protect her from Rivkin and her father's manipulations, failed to find a way to take Rivkin into custody safely resulting in his death, failed to protect her from a deep, raw, emotional wounding. And he felt angry with her for not trusting him, trust his motives.

"Eli David could have come to us for help, but he didn't. Rivkin could have asked us for help, but didn't. And when Rivkin's actions did get us involved, she should have come to us, but she didn't. She got backed into a bad place by her father, and she failed to see what was happening. You did your best to warn her, but she didn't want to hear it, didn't want to see it." Gibbs continued, "You didn't cause any of these things, Tony."

Feeling a little spooked at how easily Gibbs read his mind, Tony gave a huff, "She trusts you, boss, and only you. When you were in LA, she said she would tell you what she knew about Rivkin, but refused to answer my questions about him. Maybe things would have turned out differently if she…."

Breaking in, Gibbs said, "We're a team. If she won't share what she knows during an active investigation, then she has no business being a part of the team, any team." He wondered who Rivkin was to her, beyond the childhood friend, and suspected romantic relationship. It was hard to understand how his death had knocked her so far off balance.

Filing his questions away for later examination, he carefully rose to his feet, wincing at his. Holding out his hand, he helped DiNozzo up. "C'mon. You need a couple of pain pills, some food, and some rest."

-000-

He found Vance in autopsy looking for them. Ducky disappeared for a minute, reappearing with some pills for Tony, and a bottle of water. As Tony toss the pills down without registering a complaint, Ducky exchanged a glance with Gibbs, raising his eyebrow in surprise.

Vance spoke, "Considering the unique and deadly nature of the threat against DiNozzo, we're going to need heavy guns on this protection detail. I've decided to accept the suggestion of the head of the FBI's Special Security Force, who will provide primary protection coverage, and asked for help from our military partners. We'll be adding a Seal team to augment coverage. Justice is working on covering the legal prohibition against the military operating in the US, if it becomes necessary. They can work with no restrictions when on military property, such as the Navy Yard, which is where you'll be spending the majority of your time, DiNozzo until this is cleared up. Fortunately, there's a Seal team in Georgia just finishing a training rotation. They've been tasked to protect DiNozzo until we're sure the danger has ended. The FBI's SSF will take lead on the detail."

Turning fully to DiNozzo, "You will cooperate, DiNozzo. No escape or evasion attempts. That's a direct order. Do you understand?"

Tony turned disbelieving eyes on Gibbs, "A _Seal_ team? Really? Isn't that a massive overkill?"

Vance responded, "Against a Kidon team tasked with kidnapping you? I don't think so. No agent of mine will be kidnapped or assassinated by foreign operatives, not even those of a friendly nation." He blinked, a look of faint surprise crossing his face. "Damn. Never thought I'd be worried about you, DiNozzo. Huh." Heading for the door, he mumbled quietly, "The whole world is upside down…"

Gibbs gave a snort of laughter. Following Vance, he told Tony over his shoulder, "Get some rest. Ducky, keep an eye on him."

Tony looked at Ducky and Palmer, who'd been loitering quietly, watching intently, "What just happened here?"


	7. Chapter 7

_**Forgot to mention in the previous chapter that the 'FBI Special Security Force' was dreamed up, and as far as I know, doesn't really exist. A big thank you to scousemuz1k for keeping me motivated, and to lbinkeybella for the cat-talk. And a ginormous thank you to all you reviewers! **_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS, just borrowing the characters for a little fun.**_

Chapter 7

Frustrated and angry, Tony shifted and muttered under his breath at the throbbing pain in his shoulder and back, spreading up past the base of his skull. This was not how he wanted to spend his night, under guard at Bethesda, awaiting surgery. The case notes of the ongoing investigation were scattered across the bed and the rolling over-bed table, and his laptop sat waiting for more notes.

Rolling onto his uninjured side in the bed, he closed his eyes, trying to relax and think. Photos, video clips, forensic evidence, documentation, and witness testimony had been assembled and ordered, chronicling Rivkin's activities, placing him definitively at key places at critical times during his time in the US. It was all damning and inescapable – Rivkin had located and killed all but one member of the cell. That member was in FBI custody and being interrogated, headed eventually for Gitmo.

E-mails and phone transcripts between Rivkin, Mossad operatives and controllers, and Ziva had painted a picture of a man barely hanging together, drinking, increasingly careless, recklessly deviating from his mission. Ziva had been passing Rivkin classified and confidential information from the NCIS files on the investigations, OSP's as well as DC's. By doing so she had helped Rivkin keep one step ahead of the NCIS Agents while tracking down the terrorists.

Tony rested his head on the pillow, trying to find a way to explain and excuse what she had done. _Why? Why did she do it? _The emails on his own activities, the comments on his abilities as an agent, the wide paintbrush strokes of his "jealous and petty" nature hurt. Ziva couldn't see - refused to see - his activities as anything but motivated by personal spite.

As thoughts and emotions raced around in his head, blending into a cacophony of confusion that just made his headache worse, he slowly slipped into an uneasy sleep, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up to him.

-000-

A sound woke him. Something that was almost inaudible, that shouldn't be there. Opening his eyes, he was startled to find Ziva standing next to his bed, going through the case notes. He tried to grab at them, and ended up falling back, gasping at the sharp pain his sudden movement caused. In a strained voice he said, "You're not supposed to be involved in this investigation, Ziva. What are you doing here?"

Without looking up, she said, "Why are you _still_ looking into Michael's activities? You have already murdered him - are you trying to ruin his reputation now? Is not that a bit petty and spiteful?" She looked at him with scorn in her eyes.

Wondering how she'd gotten by the agent at the door, he replied cautiously, "There's still an on-going investigation into the terrorist cell, remember?"

Snorting, Ziva threw the papers she had been scanning on the bed, "And what - you think Michael was part of the terrorist cell?"

Shaking his head at her continued stubbornness in seeing only what she wanted to see, he knew nothing he could say would change her mind, "You know better than that, Officer David. You should not be here. Leave please."

She studied him, expressionless, "My father wants you to stand trial for murdering Michael."

"And you do too, I bet." He studied her in return.

"You will be convicted. The sentence for murdering a Mossad officer is death."

"Well, you've already made it clear that you would prefer me dead in his place, so I'm sure that'd make you quite happy."

"You _murdered_ Michael! You deserve to die!" She hammered her fist down on the bed next to him.

Tony was so tired now of the whole situation, tired of her attitude, her anger, her blaming him. "What has gotten into you, Ziva? You're not thinking, not being rational. This just isn't you. What is going on?"

When she didn't reply, he looked over at her. Head tipped back, her eyes were squeezed shut tightly, and tears were forming at the corners, trembling on the edge of falling.

Just then the door opened, and a gurney was pushed in by a couple of orderlies. Tony frowned. It was 2 a.m. and the surgery wasn't scheduled to begin for another four hours. One of the orderlies, with a tired yawn, said, "Repeat x-rays of your shoulder, Agent DiNozzo, before your surgery. We have a lull in the usual ER chaos, so we're gonna sneak you in and out before it gets busy again. You'll be back here in no time."

The orderlies move to his bedside, and the talkative one motioned to the papers scattered about, "You want these piled somewhere, or we can just slide you out from under the covers and leave it like it is."

His gut was warning him something wasn't quite right. Tony reached for the button to page a nurse, but the closest orderly pulled it away and out of reach. "No need to get the nurses involved. They're busy another patient." Tony saw Ziva move towards the end of the bed from the corner of his eye. He was hoping she would help until he saw her expression – she knew them.

Damn, he thought with a jolt. Israelis. Why were they here? Kidnapping him? He knew the State Department had their knickers (or boxers he thought irreverently) in a twist, wanting to surrender him to the Israelis, stating that if the evidence they had was sound, he would be found innocent in a trial. Better to go through the motions and preserve the relations between the US and Israel. It was thought that Eli David would wait for the politics to shake things out since there was a fair chance of Tony ending up in his hands courtesy of the US government. Did they know something he didn't? Or was the Mossad Director just too impatient?

A small voice in the back of his head wondered how Ziva knew where he was. He knew no one had contacted her to fill her in on the investigation or plans. And shortly after she showed up, the others had arrived, and had known about his location long enough to plan how to extract him from the hospital. And what had happened to the NCIS Agents on the protection detail? The FBI security team was flying in from New York, and the Seal team from Georgia. Neither were scheduled to arrive for another couple of hours, and it'd be another hour or so after that for briefing and tactical planning before they'd arrive to relieve the agents on duty.

Damn, the agent he'd last seen outside his door – his wife had just given birth to their second child a week earlier. "What happened to the Agent outside the door? Did you kill him?" He struggled to sit up. Tony would rip their heads off if they'd hurt him. He cursed his tightly bound injured arm, leaving him with only the other arm to try and lever himself upright. "Ziva, it was Malloy. His new baby…."

Raising an eyebrow, she seemed to consider his question before asking the first orderly, "Malachi?"

Malachi told him, "He is alive and will be fine once he wakes up, as well as the others on duty. Director David insists that you stand trial for Officer Rivkin's murder. His orders are to make sure you get to Tel Aviv as quickly as possible."

Raising an eyebrow inquiringly, he asked Ziva, "Are you going to help or not, Ziva? If so, then we need to go. If not, then leave now so you're not associated with this."

Tony had heard enough. He yelled for help, and flung his cell at the door where it crashed with a loud bang, falling to the floor in pieces. He shoved the table with his laptop at the second man and tried to roll off the bed, eyeing a fire alarm unit on the wall nearby. Malachi moved in quickly and grabbed his bad shoulder, trying to force him back down onto the bed. Going white-faced with agony, Tony still struggled, grabbing something from the bedside table and flinging it over his shoulder at Malachi. The second man leaned over trying to pin his legs to the bed. As he yelled for help again, he felt a prick in his thigh and looked up quick to see Malachi pocketing a syringe.

He looked towards Ziva, gasping, "Ziva, help!" But she stood there, mouth opened, looking surprised. She snapped her mouth shut, and he could see a flash of approval in her eyes before she stepped back.

His vision blurred, and he felt his strength leave as whatever drug they'd injected into him took effect. He tried once again to shout for help, but his voice came out as a whisper. His final thoughts were anger at himself for being taken down so easily. Gibbs was so not going to be happy with him.

As he was transferred to the gurney, Ziva felt a touch of regret mix with her anger. How had it come to this, she thought. Tony laid motionless as the two men strapped him down and pulled a blanket over him. Deep down she felt a tendril of unease unfurling. What would Gibbs do after he realized that Tony was gone? Would he blame her? This whole mess was Tony's fault, but she knew she hadn't convinced Gibbs of that.

As the gurney bearing Tony disappeared out the door and it swung shut, Ziva wondered if things would indeed work out as her father had planned. Unfortunately, she'd seen too many instances in which Gibbs and the team turned an impossible situation around and the dirt bags ended up in custody…or the morgue.

Taking a deep breath, she thought maybe it was time to create an alibi for herself. Smiling, she moved to the door, and after a careful check of the hallway, she slipped out. She knew just who to visit….


	8. Chapter 8

_**The plot thickens. Thank yous seasoned with hot fudge syrup and nuts for all the reviewers! I appreciate every one of them, and will try to reply individually as I can. Meanwhile, enjoy this next chapter. All booboos are my bad. I blame the cats who walked across the keyboard. They blame me for not feeding them dinner, thus forcing them to resort to drastic measures to get my attention. They win.**_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS, just borrowing the characters for a little fun.**_

Chapter 8

Cocking his head slightly sideways, Gibbs could just hear the almost silent footsteps as they approached the basement stairs. _Ziva_, he thought, not happy with her presence.

Padding down the stairs, Ziva made her way over to where Gibbs was reviewing case notes on the investigation. The light from a single work light hanging from the ceiling cast her features in sharp angles and shadows. She watched him work for a long minute before she spoke softly, "Why am I not working on this investigation with the rest of the team?"

When another long minute passed without Gibbs pausing on what he was doing, she continued doggedly, "It is wrong not to use my skills and knowledge, particularly in this instance."

When the silence continued, she spoke louder and more stridently, "Why is Tony allowed to work on this investigation? He should be investigated himself for killing Mich…Officer Rivkin. This is all wrong. Why am I being treated differently?" When he didn't look up in response, she raised her voice even further, "Gibbs! Why?"

Slowly Gibbs put the file down he'd been skimming through, and straightened up on his stool. Expressionless, he looked at her, watching her expression, her body language closely. Finally he spoke, "You can't be a part of this investigation, Ziva, and you know why. Your involvement with Rivkin means you're considered a suspect."

Her eyes grew big, and she rose from her seat, pacing around agitatedly, "You think I had something to do with Michael's death?"

"You may have had something to do with Rivkin's activities while he was in the US."

She balled her hands into fists, spinning to face him, "He was on vacation! Why do you keep insisting he was on some secret mission or assignment or…." She sputtered to a stop, glaring at him.

Gibbs eyes narrowed as he considered her words. She was lying and he knew it. And he suspected she knew that he knew. So why was she still maintaining this façade about Rivkin's assignment? Her relationship with him wasn't a secret, so that couldn't be the reason. Her involvement with his mission? That she might share the responsibility (and blame) for what he'd done?

"You know he wasn't here on a vacation, Ziva. He was tracking down and killing members of a terrorist cell he'd been following for several weeks. He tried to bug a high-level meeting between agency directors, and got caught. As a result he killed an American agent to cover his activities and presence. He was told to stop what he was doing and leave the country more than once. You knew this when he returned to DC. He was told to be on an El Al flight leaving the night DiNozzo found him in your apartment. Why was he still there?"

She angrily spat, "He would have been on the next flight to Tel Aviv. Tony shot him before he could leave! Why is he not under investigation? He was resentful of Michael being with me." She took a deep shuttering breath. "And he took advantage of the situation to get him out of the way permanently."

Gibbs stood abruptly then, moving into her personal space, inches from her face, his own expression cold. Raising an eyebrow he said, "And Rivkin hasn't?" He waited for her to reply. When no response was forthcoming, he nodded; satisfied he'd made his point.

He continued, "DiNozzo is your partner. He was coming to give you an opportunity to explain how Tabal's laptop had connected to the internet from your apartment before he turned the evidence over to the team. He was trying to save you from finding yourself under investigation."

She moved forward into his face, "He could have just waited until I got back to my apartment!"

Gibbs didn't back down, "Rivkin resisted arrest, and attacked him. He had to defend himself. Rivkin was killed in self-defense. It was as simple as that. He was given the opportunity to surrender and didn't take it. Rivkin is dead because of his own actions - no one else's."

Feeling tears of anger welling up in her eyes, she fumed, "He could have talked to me the next morning about the laptop. He kept interfering with Michael and me seeing each other, trying to keep us apart. He must have known Michael was at my apartment and wanted to interfere again, yes? Why else would he have gone there so late at night?"

"To protect you."

Breathing hard, she said in a mocking tone, "To protect me? He thought it was his job to protect me?"

"You're his partner." Gibbs said quietly, as if that explained it all. He was getting tired of her persistent and stubborn misbelief in what was motivating Tony's actions.

Turning on her heel, she paced away from Gibbs, restless, "I do not need his protection. He is incompetent. Useless. Protection by him is meaningless."

Gibbs followed her, backing her into the work bench, trying to get through to her. Time for a sharp correction. "He's anything but incompetent, and definitely not useless, David. DiNozzo's a cop, through and through, with more years of investigative field experience than you and McGee combined. He has one thing that neither of you possess, sharpened by years of hard work out on the street – a cop's instinct. You may be an excellent spy, and assassin, but that doesn't translate to a good investigator and it isn't what the team needs. We don't need a torturer to get information out of dirt bags, and don't assassinate suspects. You've come a long ways since you joined the team, and have become a good investigator, but you'll need far more experience before you can compare yourself to DiNozzo."

As if she hadn't heard a word Gibbs had said, she shook her head at him. "You need someone who is loyal to you, Gibbs. Someone you can count on; who will follow your orders; who you can depend on."

Drawing a breath to tamp down his exasperation, he spoke, "Ziva, you are not listening. I count on the loyalty of every member of the team to each other and to the agency. What I don't need is loyalty to just one man. You've withheld vital information because of your dislike of another team member. That isn't how a team works." He could see her growing anger, and wondered how long it'd take to reach the boiling point again.

She walked away a few feet, then turned back to him. "I do not think I can work with someone I do not respect."

He walked back to the work bench and sat back down, taking a sip of now cold coffee from the mug sitting on the corner. "Respect the position, Ziva, regardless of who occupies it. DiNozzo is the team's Senior Field Agent. You are not. When I am not present, he is in charge. If DiNozzo says to jump on one leg, you better ask how high."

She shook her head, "I will not obey someone I do not respect. Maybe one of us should be transferred to another team."

Cocking his head, he stared at her with barely concealed surprise, "Transferred?"

Gibbs phone rang. Locking eyes with her, he answered, "Yeah, Gibbs." He could see something flash in her eyes as he listened. His eyes narrowed, watching her intently as he listened without speaking for a long minute before asking, "What about the rest of the protection detail? Are they ok?" He slowly rose, "I'll be right there."

He approached her, his gut churning even as his mind tried to dismiss the idea that had settled front and center. "DiNozzo's gone missing from the hospital. The protection team on duty was found in an unused hospital room - all were bound, and drugged." Stepping even closer, eyes narrowed, he asked quietly, "Do you know anything about what happened?"

Her expression flat and frozen, she stared into his eyes, a thread of fear starting to trickle through her. She saw the beginning of an icy wasteland there, threatening to engulf anyone involved in Tony's disappearance. She almost whispered her reply, "No."

He could see emotions flicker across her face, barely masked, and his suspicion grew. "I hope you're not lying, Ziva. If I find out you are, and anything happens to DiNozzo, you will not like the consequences. And if I find you're a part of whatever is going on with him, you'll regret the day you met me."

He left her standing in the middle of his basement, right on the spot where Ari's blood still stained the concrete. She swallowed and found herself unexpectedly chilled, lost in an emotional whirlwind of conflicting feelings and fear.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Politics, unexpected visitors, secrets disclosed, and impossible assignments….oh, and Ziva in handcuffs. A slightly longer chapter to tide everyone over the weekend. Enjoy! And thank you to everyone again for your reviews! **_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS, just borrowing the characters for a little fun**__._

Chapter 9

Gibbs strode into Vance's office. He could hear Vance from the outer office, his voice raised and angry, "….already running facial recognition on the two men who took him. I hope you're right and they don't work for you. It would be very unfortunate to find out otherwise." A long pause interrupted him before he said with finality, "I will be talking to you again, Director David." He hung up.

Snapping the toothpick savagely in half with his teeth, Vance threw the pieces into the waste can in disgust. "Fornell is having his men canvas the area around the hospital." He picked up the remote and pressed a button, aiming it at the video screen on the far wall from his desk. "You need to see this, Gibbs. The video covering the hallway outside DiNozzo's room has been erased. However, we did find video in a different part of the hospital that shows two men dressed as orderlies wheeling DiNozzo out on a gurney. He wasn't struggling, so the docs assume he'd been drugged."

That part of the video ended, and another view replaced it and started playing, showing the elevator bank at the end of the hallway on the floor DiNozzo's room was located. The timestamp in the corner showed it was overlapping the time of the first video. A woman appeared, and pressed the button to call the elevator. As she turning back toward the camera, Vance paused the display. It was Ziva.

Gibbs stared at the image, totally motionless, his face set. Come around to his side, Vance told him, "Balboa's team is watching her apartment. She'll be brought in for questioning as soon as she shows up."

Gibbs turned to face him, cold fury in his voice. "She was at my house several minutes after this…." He jerked his head at the screen. "When McGee called, I could see she knew something. I asked her point-blank about what happened to Tony, and she denied any knowledge."

Vance nodded, "I'll let Balboa know." As Gibbs turned to leave, Vance spoke, "Fornell will be doing the interrogation, Gibbs."

Without turning around, Gibbs nodded, then continued out the door.

-000-

Fornell was waiting for him when he returned to the bullpen. Lifting another thick folder of papers, he said grimly, "Transcripts of those phone calls. NSA came through for us. I already gave a copy of the recordings to McGee. It's still being translated from Hebrew so I don't know how much help it'll be right now."

Running a weary hand across his face, Gibbs asked, "Summary version?"

"Rivkin was losing it, totally out of control at the end. His control officer had lost track of him. He wasn't supposed to be anywhere near the SecNav's house that night. We've correlated most of the calls to emails he'd sent, confirming details we already knew." He pulled DiNozzo's office chair over and sat down near Gibbs' desk.

Noticing the large cup of coffee waiting on his desk, Gibbs gratefully sat down and took a deep sip. "Ok, what won't I like that you're going to tell me now?" He expected Fornell to at least smile at his efforts at humor, but the FBI agent didn't.

"As suspected, Officer David had been passing information onto him, mostly general summaries and NCIS personnel movements. There were several short discussions of a personal nature; sounded like the two of them were becoming close.

"There were two recent calls of particular interest. First one was the day before Rivkin was killed. Officer David asked Rivkin what to do with "the laptop". She knew of its existence, and she knew whose laptop it was. The second call was from Officer David to Amit Hadar just before DiNutzo shot Rivkin. She wanted an immediate extraction of him, said he was out of control and she'd keep him at her apartment until an extraction team could arrive."

Gibbs shook his head slightly, wondering why she'd let things get so far out of control before trying to step in and deal with it.

McGee entered the bullpen and sat at his desk, fingers already typing away on his keyboard. Looking to Gibbs, he asked, "Anything on Tony, boss?" He looked worried.

"Anything on facial recognition of those two men yet?" Gibbs asked in return.

Before McGee could respond, Abby came clomping into the bullpen at a fast jog. Grabbing the video remote, she brought up a display. One of the orderlies appeared on the left side of the screen, an ID photo of the same man on the right side. The ID gave his name as Malachi Ben-Gidon. Mossad. "Nothing on the other man yet, Gibbs. Records show Ben-Gidon is a member of a Kidon unit. The unit whose team leader was none other than….Officer Rivkin."

Fornell snorted softly, "Of course."

Gibbs said, "Let Vance know, McGee."

His agent nodded, and opened a new window to send a message to the Director.

Abby bit her lip nervously, "Tony will be ok, won't he, Gibbs? I mean Kidon, those guys are nasty and dangerous. But Mossad is supposed to be our ally, right? Why would they kidnap Tony? This is all because of Ziva. She's so messed up and it's all her fault. How could she possibly not believe Tony? He doesn't go out and kill people just for the fun of it. And he'd never kill for jealously, not that he did. He was trying to help her. How could she doubt him? If I find out that she knew about the kidnapping, I'll….I'll…."

McGee broke in, "Abby, stop. Take a breath. Calm down." He rose and steered her out of the bullpen, talking to her quietly. Gibbs nodded gratefully to him.

Fornell looked at Gibbs for a long moment, and said gently, "He'll be ok. He's got more lives than a cat, and more luck than a leprechaun."

The soft bell of the elevator sounded and the doors opened. Balboa and two of his agents exited, holding tightly to Officer David who was swearing loudly that she'd kill every one of them for daring to lay hands on her. She was in handcuffs, disheveled, and very very angry. All three of the men showed signs of injuries – bloody lips and chins, black eyes, jackets ripped, two were limping, one had an arm held stiffly, another had a hand wrapped in a bloody bandage.

When Ziva spotted Gibbs looking at her along with most everyone else on the floor, she yelled to him, "Gibbs! What is going on?"

-000-

Deputy Secretary of State Anna Elliot glowered at Vance and Gibbs from the big screen in MTAC. "You want me to believe that Special Agent DiNozzo was _kidnapped_ by the Israelis?" She shook her head in disgust, "Gentlemen, you must know how sad this attempt at covering your agent's backside sounds. I don't know what games you're playing over there at the Navy Yard, but rest assured, if you do not have Agent DiNozzo present and available at the Israeli Embassy at noon tomorrow, the Secretary will be taking this matter to the President. And I speculate that there will be two new vacancies at your organization to be filled shortly thereafter." With a jab at an unseen button beneath her display, Elliot cut the feed and the screen went blank.

Shaking his head, Vance told Gibbs, "I'll brief SecNav and see how he wants to handle this. It's turning into a damn circus." He pulled out a new toothpick to replace the one he'd chewed into fragments earlier. "All we need now is for the media to find out and it really will be a circus."

Gibbs shook his head slightly, "It won't leak from this end, Leon. No guarantees about her though," he said jerking his head at the blank screen.

One of the MTAC technicians turned in his seat, "Director, security at the main desk says there is a man there who wishes to speak with you and Agent Gibbs. Won't say who he is, just that it's important. Shall I have him escorted to your office?"

Rolling his eyes at what might be the next disaster heading his way, he nodded, "Conference room though." Turning to Gibbs, he said in a weary voice, "Let's go see who it is. If it's related to this fiasco, I'm not going to suffer alone."

With a half snort of amusement, Gibbs followed him out of MTAC.

-000-

Gibbs had just poured himself a fresh cup of coffee when the conference room door open. Turning, he was taken aback when Amit Hadar entered the room. There were dark circles under the man's eyes, and a general air of tiredness hung over him. Extending his hand to the Director he said, "Director Vance, thank you for seeing me." He nodded at Gibbs who passed him a cup of coffee, which he accepted gratefully, "Agent Gibbs".

Vance looked askance at Gibbs while pointing to a chair at the table, "Sit, please." As the three settled into chairs, Vance said in a cautious voice, "What can NCIS do for you, Officer Hadar?"

Rubbing his hands across his face, Hadar sighed heavily. In a drained voice, he started, "First, I must tell you that I am not here officially. In fact, I am not here representing anyone but myself. Things have happened, are happening…." Visibly taking hold of himself, he continued, "I would like to offer my services to you…privately…to help locate your Agent DiNozzo."

Gibbs' eyes narrowed, "Locate him? You don't know where he is?"

"No. Things have become…difficult in Israel. Director David….he's become a bit….irrational over this situation. He's not making wise decisions. And he's not been discussing them with anyone before he issues orders. Things are not going well there." He paused to take a sip of coffee. "I am not sure that what he is doing is what the government there would want, if it knew what was going on."

Vance leaned forward, alert and intent, "Are you saying that Director David has….gone rogue?"

Looking up at the ceiling as if it had answers for the reading, Hadar eventually nodded. "Yes. And someone has to stop what he's doing before it blows up in everyone's face."

Sitting back, Vance glanced at Gibbs before asking, "Does Officer David know what is going on? Does she know you're here?"

Hadar shook his head. "No. The last contact I had with her was when she left Israel with you." He looked conflicted, but eventually said, "I do not believe Officer Rivkin was following orders when he returned to Washington from Los Angeles. He was…having difficulties. And I am not sure how much assistance Officer David was giving him before she finally came to her senses and called for an extraction."

"And what help can you offer that would be helpful in finding Agent DiNozzo?"

With an expression of faint apprehension, Hadar straightened in his chair, "I know where most of the safe houses Israel has set up are in the DC area. I also know and have worked with the team leader of the unit who took him, and perhaps can serve as a liaison between them and you. I can also try and reason with the Mossad station chief at the Embassy and enlist him in convincing the unit to release Agent DiNozzo unharmed."

Gibbs asked, "How much danger will you be in if you start revealing Mossad secrets? How far will Director David go to get his hands on DiNozzo?"

Hadar pulled a sour smile, "I am hoping that perhaps Director David will have a change of heart before it comes time for me to return to Israel. As to how far will he go?" He paused, thinking carefully, "He is irrational, dangerous. I am not sure he is aware of how precarious his position is should the authorities there find out what he has ordered, what he is doing. He is very determined to have your agent pay for Officer Rivkin's death."

"And you do not agree with his wishes to see Agent DiNozzo 'pay' for his actions?" Vance asked curiously.

"He is not responsible for Officer Rivkin's actions. He was attacked and defended himself. Rivkin has no one but himself to blame."

"And Ziva's involvement?" Gibbs prompted.

Looking Gibbs in the eye, he replied, "I know you value her place on your team and think she is a good investigator. However, in this instance, she has let her emotions rule. If she were in Israel, she would be returned to training, or perhaps even let go from Mossad."

He narrowed his eyes slightly and looked speculatively at Gibbs. Fiddling with his coffee cup, he appeared to be conflicted about something. Finally he said carefully, "There is something you should know, Special Agent Gibbs. You should…if you are going to be making decisions affecting Ziva and her place on your team, you should know the full truth about her orders regarding Ari Haswari."

Vance shifted slightly, and Gibbs realized that he was aware of what Hadar was going to say. He waited silently for Hadar to continue.

"Ziva was specifically chosen to kill Haswari when it became clear that he was a Hamas operative and had abandoned Mossad and Israel. Director David felt using Ziva to save your life was the best way to leave you in debt to her. Knowing the high value you place on family, as his half-sister, it would provoke your sympathy for her."

A surge of disbelief at Hadar's words flooded through Gibbs, and he turned to Vance, reading the truth of it in his expression. Anger followed and he stood up, furious at Vance for leaving him to play the fool, and even more, for letting him trust Ziva. Vance rose and held up his hand. "Gibbs…."

Slamming his fist down on the table, sending everything on it rattling, he yelled, "You had no reason to keep that information from me, Leon. None!" Struggling to rein himself in, he paced the room for a minute. Finally he stopped in front of Vance and demanded, "Why?"

With a mixed gesture of apology and something else Gibbs couldn't decipher, he replied to his Lead Agent, "There never seemed to be a need. Ziva was working out well, and I couldn't see a reason to cause disruption within the team by sharing the information."

Shaking his head, Gibbs turned from him in disgust and sat back down. "We'll discuss this later, Leon."

The office door opened without notice and Fornell entered followed by Trent Kort. Hadar stiffened at seeing him. Kort slammed the door closed, and stood staring at Hadar. Fornell jerked his head over his shoulder, "Lookie who I found loitering alone in the bullpen."

Hadar stood and faced Kort, both looking ready to jump each other and fight to the death. Fornell sat down and looked at them with an amused expression. "Well, lookie here, I don't think they like each other, Jethro."

Vance broke in, "What do you want, Mr. Kort?"

With a disagreeable expression, Kort said, "I'm here to buy back one of my markers from Gibbs." He turned to look at Gibbs.

Sipping his coffee, Gibbs said, "How?"

"Not here," Kort said, glancing again at Hadar.

After a suitably pause, Gibbs said, "Ok." He led Kort out of the conference room and into Vance's vacant office. Turning, he said, "Speak."

"DiNozzo really got under Director David's skin. He's gone a bit off his rocker with his desire for retribution. If you're expecting your pet dog to survive this, you're gonna have to do better in your hunt for him."

Taking another sip of his coffee, Gibbs grimacing at how cold it'd gotten. "Nothing new, Trent."

"Why is Hadar here?"

"Offered to help."

"You trust him?"

"Shouldn't I?"

Kort stared hard at Gibbs, trying to read him. He finally shrugged, "It's your problem."

Crumpling the empty coffee cup, Gibbs tossed it into the nearest trash can. "Talk or get out."

Kort wrinkled his nose in disgust, "Arrogant, as usual. One of these days…"

Gibbs turned to leave, not wasting another second on Kort's game playing.

"Wait."

Pausing, Gibbs looked over his shoulder.

Stepping forward to face Gibbs, Kort sighed. "Director David has a secret, heavily encrypted cache of data somewhere. It has…information on many individuals."

When Kort didn't go on, Gibbs prompted."And?"

"Blackmail. He's worse than Hoover."

After thinking about what Kort has said, Gibbs asked, "Who? And where is this data?"

"More people than you can imagine. Many in Israel's government….Mossad, other governments, financiers, arms dealers, spies, military, politicians, business executives, academics..." Kort paused, "He keeps his position because those who could remove him from office are afraid of what he might have on them."

Gibbs nodded, then turned to leave in a hurry. Kort watched him yank the outer door to Vance's office open and move out of sight. "You're welcome, you bastard."

-000-

Moving quickly, Gibbs entered Abby's lab, pausing only to slam the CD player's off button. "McGee," he said, stopping beside the man. "Forget what you're working on. New job. Eli David has a cache of encrypted data somewhere he uses for blackmail. Find it. Don't stop until you do. And don't get caught. Abby, help him."

McGee and Abby stared after him as he stormed out of the lab, then at each other, mouths hanging open. McGee asked Abby in a strangled voice, "How am I supposed to find _that_?"

Abby froze in thought for an instant, then head slapped McGee. "The same way you do every other impossible thing Gibbs tells you to do. Now get to it."

_**A/N: And once again, I'll be busy tomorrow night through Sunday with cat rescue work. Next chapter should be posted Monday night. Have a safe weekend.**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**Here's the next chapter, folks. I hope it doesn't disappoint. Admission of guilt: I've never been in Baltimore, and know virtually nothing about the city. Anyone who lives there or knows the area, I beg you to overlook the hijacking and alterations of city features for the sake of the story. Additionally, courtesy of RL being fickled today, I was unable to copyedit this chapter as well as I'd like, so any typos or odd grammatical structures are its fault.**_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS, just borrowing the characters for a little fun.**_

Chapter 10

Pivoting, Gibbs left the lab, taking the stairs back up to the conference room. Entering, a little breathless, he asked Hadar, "Director David – blackmail files. You know anything about them?"

Hadar rose, looking surprised, "How did you fin…" He broke off, then pulling himself together, he said, "No idea where he keeps it. Do you know….have you found it?"

"No." Gibbs turned to Vance, "Eli David has electronic blackmail files somewhere. It's how he keeps people in line. If we can find them…"

Vance stood straighter, "What do you need?"

"McGee and Abby are working on it. Whatever he needs…"

Vance nodded, "I'll have cybercrimes take over whatever else he's been doing."

Pointing to two new people present, Vance motioned him to sit. "Gibbs, these are the heads of the protection teams for DiNozzo. Since he's been taken, they'll be working with you on finding him as quickly as possible, now."

A plainclothed woman, diminutive, short gray hair, lean, nodded to Gibbs, "Senior Agent Kel McGuire." The wiry, dark haired, tall man in dark BDUs nodded to Gibb, "Commander Richard Bodin."

Vance continued, "Fornell and I filled them in on the last few days."

McGuire nodded and passed a few printouts to Gibbs, "Customs has passed on lists of people who match the criteria we're interested in who've enter the country in the last week. We're checking them as quickly as we can. Officer Hadar has identified several as Mossad or Kidon, but there's still a fair number to go through." She added, "We have a couple of excellent computer specialists we can assign to work with Special Agent McGee. They're good at snooping and tracking in cyberspace without getting caught."

Vance glanced at Gibbs, who nodded after a slight pause. "Thank you, Commander."

Fornell added, "We should have the list processed by morning, Gibbs."

Gibbs glanced over the list, while asking, "The list of safe houses, Hadar?"

The Israeli nodded, "Plus a few more we know of that belong to other countries." He passed a couple of sheets of paper to Gibbs, his neat handwriting covering both front and back. "Many of them are alarmed and booby-trapped."

Gibbs scanned the lists before handing them to McGuire. "Split into teams – three or four. One NCIS agent with each team; your people also Commander to provide support. Divide and assign houses to each team to clear. Hadar, you have 30 minutes to brief everyone on what they should know to clear each house safely. Move people, the clock is ticking."

As McGuire, Bodin, and Hadar discussed assignments, Fornell moved quietly over to Gibbs and Vance. "If McGee manages to get that information, we're going to have to make sure it's destroyed. If it's known we have it, we might as well paint a big bulls-eye on the USA. Everyone and their grandmother will be trying to get their hands on it."

Vance nodded. "Uh huh," he said in understated agreement.

When it became obvious that Vance wouldn't say anything further, Fornell offered, "I can bring in more agents to help with the search."

Gibbs said quietly, "No. I don't think this should be a large scale hunt. If these Kidon get wind of several of their safe-houses being raided, they might decide to kill DiNozzo and cut their losses. Besides," he said, "you still have to interrogate Ziva."

With a shrug, Fornell replied, "More important things to do right now. She'll keep."

Handing the list of addresses with some highlighted to Gibbs, Hadar said, "I'd appreciate the opportunity to accompany you. I can help disarm the traps and alarms."

Gibbs looked inquiringly at Vance, and the director nodded his approval.

Vance said, "I'll update SecNav. Keep me posted."

As the conference room emptied, Vance felt a pang of regret at not going with them. "It sucks being in charge at times," he said softly.

-000-

Groaning, Tony slowly opened his eyes. He was laying on a shabby, lumpy bed in a strange room, dressed in the street clothes he'd worn to the hospital, smelling the sour mix of cigarette smoke, unwashed bodies, and booze in the air. It was dark outdoors, and a light outside a grimy window flashed on and off in a loud yellow color. He could hear an occasional car horn and slow moving traffic on the street outside. For a moment he was disoriented, his mind sliding back into his days at Baltimore PD when he was undercover in one of the seedier districts of the city. Where was he?

"You're awake finally."

Twisting around slightly, he found a man slumped in a nondescript arm chair next to his bed. Frowning, Tony struggled to remember where he'd seen him before. Another man came out of the bathroom and into the light of the lone lamp in the room. Malachi. Which made the other man…. They were the orderlies who'd come to take him for radiographs before the surgery on his shoulder. In a rough voice, he muttered, "Ok, I'll bite. Where are we and what did you do with the hospital?"

With a soft snort, Malachi spoke, his English now hinting of an Israeli accent, "Baltimore."

As he tried to move enough to relieve some of the pressure on his bad shoulder, he said, "Gonna introduce your mate here, Mal?"

"Special Agent DiNozzo, meet Benjamin Solah."

"I take it, Ben, that you aren't really a hospital orderly."

Ben expression was far colder than Malachi's, eyeing him with distaste. "No. And if I had my way, you wouldn't have left there alive."

Raising his eyebrows, Tony said brightly, "Oh well, in that case I'll be going now. Nice meeting you, Ben." Struggling to rise, Tony realized he'd been handcuffed to the metal bed frame. "Well, ain't this a nice mess you've gotten us into, Ben. Ben Solah. Ben-Sol? Hey, that makes sense, Ben-Sol. Sorta like Pine-Sol. Cleaner. You're a "cleaner", right? Mossad trained rubbish mover. Ok, glad we got that straight."

Sobol sneered, "Garbage, that's what you are."

Sinking back to the bed, Tony tried to draw a deep breath, but only started coughing, which hurt like hell. Malachi twisted the cap off a bottle of water and handed it to Tony. As he got his coughing under control, he asked, "So, what's happening? You gonna share your plans with me or do you wanna play 'What Comes Next in 20 Questions Or Less'?"

He could see Malachi half smiling, but was positive that no matter how much Malachi might be amused, it wouldn't stop him from delivering Tony into Eli David's hands. Ben stood and moved to the door, "Going for food." He exited with a final glare at Tony.

Out of energy, Tony sagged back, and concentrated on studying the room. It was an old hotel room, the dirty paint peeling in large flakes near the ceiling, an old radiator under the window banging and knocking from the steam passing through. Tired curtain hung in the one window, cobwebs above it. Two old brassy wall sconces with dim bulbs provided what light there was in the room. The bed he laid on was lumpy, and the bedspread was as dingy and colorless as the curtains. A bed-side lamp leaned sideways, no bulb in the socket. A patched and worn carpet in a stained brown covered the floor. A door stood partially open to the bathroom, and he knew it would be as dated and worn as the room.

It was so familiar to him. He'd covered so many homicide investigations in similar hotel rooms during his time on the Baltimore force that it was almost as familiar as home to him. Closing his eyes briefly, he went through the various neighborhoods of the city comparing them to what he could hear outside of the traffic, and thought he must be in the Fells Point District. Lots of old hotels, center of the Mafia activities back in the day when they were at the height of their influence. Speakeasies. Old hotels….Tony slipped back into an uneasy sleep.

-000-

The time he'd spent with the two Israelis had been strained. Solah especially had been hostile and angry, furious that Tony had killed another Mossad agent. It didn't seem to matter the cause behind the killing, he wanted to take Tony out right then and there. Ben-Gidon was more perfunctory in his duties. Tony didn't know if he didn't consider him a serious escape risk, or maybe thought the whole exercise was boring, or maybe he just didn't care.

The time the three men had spent together had been filled with silence on the Israelis part, words only exchanged when necessary. Didn't stop Tony from doing his best to goad them, and he spent his waking time talking endlessly about movies. Solah took to leaving the room on the least excuse to escape Tony's commentary. Malachi ignored him for the most part. The only information Tony could get out of him was that they were waiting for word that the expected transportation was ready.

As the hours passed, several men slipped into the room solitarily, speaking quietly to Ben-Gidon for a minute, before slipping back out. While most of the conversations were in Hebrew, enough were in English for Tony to pick up news on the heavy dragnet that had been cast over the airports, waterways, bus and train terminals, taxi dispatch, and any other mass transit modes, making it impossible for the Israelis to move him out of the country yet. Inwardly, Tony smirked – go team USA!

When he wasn't trying to annoy his captors, Tony thought about escape. As the hours passed, his ideas swung from almost plausible to the wildly absurd. Every knock on the door got his heart rate up as he imagined Gibbs and the team on the other side, ready to burst in…well, maybe Gibbs and McGee. He wasn't sure what was going on with Ziva, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. If it wasn't Gibbs, then it was The Green Hulk, or a platoon of Marines, or a sweet ol' granny armed with chicken soup laced with tranquilizers to put his captors to sleep.

He woke out of a snooze once dreaming of the Godfathers and Mafia and longshoremen going after his captors for using the docks to slip away in the night by boat without paying protection money. Tony snorted to himself, remembering conversations while on stakeouts of secret tunnels to the harbor going back to the Civil War used by the Underground Railway to help slaves escape from a slave auction site about a mile east of the harbor. Legend had it that the tunnels were enlarged and many of the older hotels had secret passages to these tunnels to help with moving shanghaied men to the waterfront. Rolling his eyes as he gingerly stretched, he imagined the tunnels with toll booths now to feed the city coffers.

While waiting for Batman and Robin to rescue him, he kept detailed notes in his head of the visitors to the hotel room, studying them for any information he could glean on their numbers and identifying features. And dreaming of escape.

-000-

Two days later, he finally got his chance. He'd been able to look out the bathroom window when he was uncuffed to use the facilities and confirmed he was in the Fells Point District. He was pretty sure he even knew which hotel he was in.

He gingerly rolled his good shoulder, trying to loosen it up, the other shoulder dully aching still. He'd love to have had some aspirin, but apart from rebinding it to his side after a quick shower last night, his captors hadn't offered anything in the way of medical care. He'd just have to be careful not to bang it up any.

Ben-Sol had taken off a few minutes ago, headed out to pick up dinner take-out. Malachi had been in the shower when Ben-Sol had left, counting on the handcuffs to keep Tony secure.

Tony heard the shower stop, and knew he didn't have much time. He tugged his buckle open and slipped his belt knife out. Flipping it so he could fit the point of the hardened blade into the lock, he twisted and pried at it until he felt it snap. Shaking his wrist free, he eased off the bed and moved silently to the bathroom door. Poised beside the door, pressed back against the wall, he waited, knowing he'd have only one shot at this. He held his breath.

As soon as the door started moving, he stepped into the doorway and slammed his weight into the door as hard as he could. As it struck Malachi, who had been pulling a shirt on over his head, Tony stepped sideways and drove his knife upward aiming for Malachi's gut as the man staggered, hoping the man had been stunned enough to slow down that one second he'd need to strike before the man recovered.

He managed to connect with Malachi's body before the man could free up his hands from the shirt that was still half-on. Tony knew he'd scored a deep slice into the other's body, but not if it were enough to stop him. Slipping back, shielding his bad side with the door jam, he flipped the knife so he was holding the bloody blade. As his adversary flung the door open wide no longer hindered by the shirt, he stepped back, and threw the knife hard, not at Malachi's body, but down solidly into his bare foot.

With a muffled scream of pain, Malachi stumbled and went to his knees. Tony stepped back out of the other's range. He cursed as the Malachi pulled a handgun from its holster in the small of his back. Reaching out, Tony grabbed the bedside lamp and brought it down on Ben-Gidon's head. The Israeli raised an arm to block the blow, which distracted him just long enough for Tony to brace himself and raise his foot to drive the heel of his shoe into the side of Malachi's head, sending him falling backwards.

Without waiting, he ran to the door, heart racing, breath hitching painfully as he struggling to draw in air around his broken ribs. Yanking the door open, he pulled it closed behind him, then glanced up and down the hallway, trying to determine in which direction the stairs might be located.

A cleaning cart stood several yards down the hallway. He spotted a can of spray cleaner and ran to grab it before sprinting back to the doorway. Just as the door was pulled opened Malachi stumbled out, limping badly, one hand pressed to his temple and squinting in pain. Tony pressed the nozzle button and blasted him in the face with cleaning solution. Screaming in pain, blinded, Malachi reached up to his face, but at the last second, he struck out with his gun hand striking Tony on his bad shoulder. Gasping, going white faced from the pain, Tony reeled back.

Malachi aimed his gun in the last direction he knew Tony had been in, and fired. The shot went high, but was still close enough to alarm Tony. If anyone else was in the hallway, they would be in danger of being shot. He wouldn't let any innocent civilians be wounded or killed because of him. Forcing his body up, swaying from the pain, he reached out and slammed the heel of his good hand into Malachi's chin, sending the man reeling back into the hotel room.

Knowing he couldn't count on wrestling the gun from Malachi single-handedly, he abandoned that hope. Pulling the door shut, he moved towards what appeared to be elevators, hoping that he could find the stairs. He couldn't afford to meet Ben Solah, or any of the other Israelis returning. Just ahead, he heard the elevator chime, announcing its arrival. Damn, he thought. Bumping into the wall, he almost went past the doorway marked "Housekeeping". Desperate, he reached for the door knob, praying that it was unlocked. The elevator door opened just around the corner as he started to turn the knob….


	11. Chapter 11

_**Thank you again to everyone who has reviewed or send along PMs. I'm sending virtual chocolate peanut clusters wrapped in bright ribbons and bows in gratitude. Any holes in the ribbons are the cats' fault – they insisted on helping. A big shout out to scousemuz1k for keeping me going when I was running out of steam. Onward – it's almost time for the new episode tonight. Woohoo!**_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS, just borrowing the characters for a little fun.**_

Chapter 11

The knob turned in his hand, and he was almost brought to his knees by the flood of relief that swept through him. He jumped through the doorway and shut the door silently behind him in one swift motion that he prayed had been quick enough to go unnoticed by whoever had exited the elevator. He cautiously turned the deadbolt lock as quietly as possible and leaned back, breathing heavily as he struggled to regroup. Not knowing how much time he had before the search for him would start in earnest, he pushed himself upright off the door and looked around.

Praying under his breath that fate be on his side for just this one time, he started looking around for anything he could use as a weapon. Old wooden shelving stood against all four walls, filled with linens, bathroom and cleaning supplies, piles and boxes of unknown odds and ends. An old vacuum cleaner leaned tiredly against a wall next to a stack of brooms. Buckets were stacked haphazardly. Dusters hung from hooks. It was crowded, and the only light came from a small grate high up on the wall above the door.

No wrenches or hammers or other useful tools for hitting people over the head were visible. He did spot a box of flashlights, and was surprised to find one that worked. He tucked that away inside the sling binding his bum arm to his side. He eyed the brooms, wondering how useful they'd be in a one-armed fight with someone. He snorted, all he'd need is a horse and he could joust his way to freedom using a broomstick as a lance. Too bad they weren't Nimbus 2001 or Thunderbolts, he thought.

Keeping an ear open for noise from the hallway, Tony carefully explored further. A doorway sans door led into a small washroom. A utility sink was to one side, and what looked like a large electrical breaker box half his height and width was on the other. The sink was half filled with tubs of dirty liquids with crusted handles. Ripped open boxes of cleaners stood under the sink, and dirty looking scrub brushes were piled in a corner. There were no other doors or windows in the room save for the one he'd come through. Other than throwing soap flakes at the bad guys, he couldn't see much that could be useful as a weapon in the washroom.

Looking at the electric panel, he wondered if he could cause trouble by flipping breakers. Or, he thought, he'd just attract someone looking for the circuit box to fix the problem if he messed with it. Tugging the panel open, Tony found a snarl of wires running across the inside of the box in a tangled mess. Some wires were labeled, but most were just twisted into loops secured with ties, running from one side and out the other, or capped and ended hanging amid the mess. So much for tidy rows of circuit breakers neatly labeled.

Almost closing the panel door, Tony paused, seeing a small catch along the top of the opening. Fingering it, he mentally shrugged. Maybe he could destroy or cut power on the backside of the panel that would be harder to spot – might buy him extra time to escape in a darkened hotel corridor. He gave it a hard pull. The entire panel pivoted to one side, and a cold, damp smelling space revealed itself. Sticking his head in enough to suss out the area, he found a passageway, about two feet wide, and just high enough to graze his head if he'd been standing in it.

Tony gaped in astonishment. No way. Bloody hell, absolutely no way, he thought. He half expected to hear a director call "cut!" – these things just didn't happen in real life. Disbelieving his own eyes, he stood with his mouth literally hanging open for many seconds while his brain tried to reset itself. Hardly daring to breath, Tony reached out and touched the opposite wall behind the panel. It was real. Idly, he wondered how he'd write this up in his report - no one will believe it. Hell, he was close to distrusting his own senses right now himself.

Pulling the flashlight from his sling, he powered it on and aimed the light into the passageway. He could see by the light that the passage continued on to where the washroom's far wall ended, then continued around the corner away from the room.

Grimacing at how his shoulder would feel being forced to squeeze in such a tight space, Tony knew he had to explore the passage at least to the corner to see what was further on past that. He took the time to return to the bin of flashlights and find one more working one before returning to the panel. With difficulty, he managed to wiggle through the panel opening then carefully tug it shut after checking the floor for tell-tale scuff marks or footprints. Shuffling sideways, he was grateful he wasn't claustrophobic.

Breathing heavily, he hoped he wouldn't start coughing from the cold air. No telling how far sound would travel in here. Tony was worried even the slight scraping sound of his clothes against the walls might be loud enough for someone to hear. Reaching the corner, he shone the light into the new space, sucking his breath in at the sight of a rough set of makeshift steps leading downward and around another corner - this passage really did go somewhere. It only took him a second of pondering whether to return to the maintenance room before deciding to continue on. He wouldn't be cooped up there just waiting to be discovered.

-000-

After what seemed like an endless time of sliding along sideways, down steep steps, around corners, brushing through cobwebs, and hearing (_imaginary_, he wondered?) scuttling sounds at times that made him think of rats, he rounded one last corner to find himself at a dead end. Shining the light up and down the wall, he couldn't see anything resembling a door or panel, just a rough wall. By this time, he had the general feeling that he'd traveled down at least one floor, maybe more, but apart from that, he'd lost all sense of where he might be in the building.

His heart sank as he contemplated having to reverse his journey back to where he started. For a minute, he just closed his eyes and rested his head back against the wall, trying to keep from sliding into despair. In frustration, he put his hand out flat against the end wall and pushed, hoping for some sign of a trap door. Nothing. Moving his hand further along, he pushed again and again, testing each section. There! He thought felt the wall give just a fraction. Tapping his fingers against the wall as quietly as he could, he heard the faint sound change as his hand moved along the wall. It sounded more hollow.

Hardly breathing, he pressed his ear to the wall, straining to hear any sound on the other side. Almost inaudible, he could just barely hear what sounded like machine noises. HVAC? Elevator shaft? No voices, no footsteps. What to do? Should he try and breech the wall? What if he found himself facing the backside of a boiler? Inside an elevator shaft? Or maybe the lobby of the building was inches away from him on the other side of the wall. Breaking through the wall then would certainly catch the attention of anyone in the lobby. Indecisive, he kept listening, hoping for more clues.

Finally, he realized he could stand there for hours listening without learning more. Maybe he could create just a small peephole. If he were careful, hopefully no one would notice. Hesitating for just a moment longer, he finally smacked the back of his head. If Gibbs were here, he'd probably have a headache by now.

Pulling his belt knife out from where he'd slipped it into a pocket, he carefully started twisting the point into the wall, fairly certain that he'd find sheetrock in short order. Blowing softly on the hole he was patiently boring through the wall, he kept his movements slow and careful. When he felt no resistance to the gentle pressure he had on the knife tip, he paused, listening carefully. Several minutes passed before he resumed, hearing nothing new. After he'd made an opening about a quarter inch across, he switched off the flashlight and moved to peek out, just to see….nothing.

-000-

Darkness. Was he through the wall? Or was there yet another layer…paneling? Still moving with slow care, he enlarged the hole to the size of a quarter, then looked out again. Still darkness. A faint, cold thread of air brushed his face, so he knew he was looking out into an open space at least. Risking discovery, he turned the flashlight on and shone it out the hole. A wall emerged from the darkness, about four or five feet from his location. He could just make out what looked like the handle from a broom or mop resting against the wall. No sounds though other than the mechanical noise, louder now. Well, nothing to do but go for it, he thought. He was getting colder, and wished he had a coat.

Gambling the noise wouldn't be heard, he enlarged the hole to a good foot across. He could now see another utility room on the other side of the wall, though it only had a handful of brooms, mops, and buckets stored there. It definitely was cold in the room, but it lacked the damp smell of the space he was in still. He started breaking the wall down now, shoving large pieces of painted sheetrock out of his way until he could slip into the room. The floating dust from the dry wall brought on a coughing spell, and until he brought it under control, he worried anyone passing by would hear the muffled coughs and hacks.

He finally stopped coughing and drew a sleeve across his face, wiping away the dust. Groaning softly, he wished he could just sink down and take a nap. His shoulder was aching from the bumping and dragging it'd gone through recently. Stop whining, he told himself sternly, once again feeling a ghost hand smack the back of his head.

Sticking the flashlight in a pocket, he moved to the door and after listening several more minutes for signs of life, he cracked it open and peeked out. It was a corridor, dimly lit, dirty linoleum flooring, scuffed and marred institutional gray walls, lined on each side with more hotel supplies. To one side he could hear what sounded like steam machines, and low rumbling. Hazarding a guess, he thought it was a laundry facility for the hotel. To the other side was darkness and quiet.

Slipping out of the room, he closed the door and moved into the darkness. When the faint light from behind finally dimmed to darkness, he pulled out his flashlight. The hallway continued on. Occasionally another hallway would cross the one he was moving along, but he continued on straight for a couple of hundred feet further before his eyes picked up the faintest light ahead.

Proceeding minus the flashlight, he finally came to a door propped open to what looked like a locker room, empty. Dirty piles of one-piece janitorial jumpsuits messily filled rolling laundry bins lined up along one wall, lockers along the other, benches filled in the open space between. Grabbing several jumpsuits, Tony found one large enough to cover his clothes, and pulled it on, grimacing at the smell. He ditched the sling and eased his hand into a pocket, hoping it'd be enough to keep the arm from moving around too much. Rolling up a pile of jumpsuits, he tucked them under his good arm, and assumed the lanky gait of a tired workman, head down, shoulders slightly hunched as he moved through the only other door in the room.

He passed through a laundry facility, through more doors and hallways until he reached a bank of service elevators. The few people he came across, dressed in service uniforms similar to his, exchanged a disinterested nod with him, yawning sleepily, but he didn't stop to chat. Grabbing a broom from several in a barrel, he pushed the button to call the elevator. Hotel. He was certain of it now. But which one - the same as he'd been in for the last couple of days? Given the small number of staff he'd come across, he guessed it was in the early morning hours.

Luck was on his side, and he made his way out the service door and into a back alleyway. Shivering, he moved toward the nearest street. Ditching the broom, he kept the roll of jumpsuits. It'd still serve as good camouflage. Slouching against the building wall just inside the end of the alley as if he were waiting for someone to pick him up, he carefully looked around. With a casual smile, Tony felt his spirits lift. He knew exactly where he was. And a plan started to take form in his head….


	12. Chapter 12

_**I know it's been said before, but thank you again, every one of you, for the reviews and PMs. I wish I had the time right now to reply to each one of you, but it's replies or the story, and I think I know which choice most of you would make. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I did dreaming it up. Onward! (scousemuz1k – Ms Grumpy ask me to relay to you her most sincere hisses, swats, and one accidental purr)**_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS, just borrowing the characters for a little fun.**_

Chapter 12

Leaning against the brick wall behind a thick hedge of greenery, Tony waited patiently. The night time street scene was as busy as it had been when he worked homicide. It took him a while to make his way carefully to her old track, but after that, it'd been easy to spot her.

Looking around carefully, he couldn't see anyone who didn't look like they should be out on the street at that hour. So far, he'd spotted Malachi and Solah twice, obviously looking for him. Malachi limped heavily and sported a swollen black eye, he noted with amusement. Knowing the neighborhood, he was easily able to avoid them. He recognized two others who had stopped in the hotel room briefly during the time he was held there. What he didn't know was how many others might be hunting with them.

Pushing off the wall, he casually wandered closer to her. She still looked good after 10 years, and was chatting with the locals, waving occasionally to a passing car. Easing up behind her, he softly spoke, "Hey, Sapphire, how you doing?"

With a big smile, she slowly pivoted to face him, "Hey, Tony, long time no see. How ya doing? Heard you joined the big guys down in DC."

He returned her smile with one of his 1000-watt ones, "You're looking good. How's business?"

She sidled closer, "Pays the bills." She noticed his eyes roving methodically around. "You workin', Tony? Who you lookin' for?"

He met her eyes, expression becoming serious. "Already found them. Really bad characters." He hoped the relations he'd built when he worked in BPD still held some sway. "I could use some help."

Sapphire's smile faded a little as she studied him, "You hurt, Tony? You don't look so good."

Spotting Solah a block away, he nodded to a nearby doorway. Slipping further into the shadows, he kept an eye on the man. "Dinged a bit. Wanna have some fun?" His eyes smiled at her with a hint of mischief.

"Whatcha got in mind, Tony?" She snuggled up to him as he outlined his plan.

-000-

The word went out to the streetwalkers, and from there to the local gang's runners, and out from there. A non-descript sedan was parked in an alley close by, the keys left in the ignition by the teen who left the alley with a thumbs up to a nearby watcher.

Malachi moved along the street, travelling a square pattern around the hotel in which his prisoner had been kept. His sharp eyes searched windows, rooftops, doorways, passing cars, and those moving about on the street.

Struggling to his feet after DiNozzo had virtually blinded him in the hallway, he'd placing a hasty call to Solah summoning him. He'd quickly moved into the hallway looking unsuccessfully for his quarry. Ben had covered the front entrance and a third operative, unknown to DiNozzo, covered the back of the hotel. Tony had not surfaced. Now, after being patched up by Solah and changing into clean clothes, the search had taken to the streets.

Hours later, frustrated, Malachi was slowing down, tired and hurting. When a lady of the night approached him, he tried to fend her off politely, stepping around and trying to continue down the sidewalk. The woman, named "Cupcake" she said, "because I'm so sweet," pressed up against him, whispering promises of a good time, eyeing him sensuously. He didn't notice her slip a small baggie into his coat pocket. The more Malachi tried to dissuade her and move on, the more insistent she became. Finally, he shoved her away, yelling at her to leave him alone. Staring at him open mouthed as he moved off, she called out, "You'll be sorry you didn't take me up on my offer. Bastard!"

Before he'd made his way half way down the block, a patrol car pulled up across the sidewalk in front of him, and two cops got out. "Hey, bud, we got a call you were getting physical with a woman. You wanna tell us what you thought you were doing?"

As Malachi tried to explain that he had nothing to do her and just wanted her to leave him alone, the officers moved closer, "Hey, let's just calm down here. I'm sure it was just a misunderstanding."

Malachi tried to slowly ease away. "Misunderstanding, yes."

"How'd you get that black eye, son? You leg hurt, too?"

Easing back one more step, Malachi shrugged, looking abashed, "Took an unexpected tumble. Careless of me, but nothing serious."

Nodding, the first cop moved to block his path, "Ok. You have any ID on you?"

Reaching for his wallet, Malachi nodded. "Yes, I do."

As the officer caught sight of the shirt under Malachi's coat, showing red where the knife wound was seeping blood through the bandages, the cop put his hand on his weapon. "Stop where you are! Hands on your head."

The second officer pulled out a Taser, covering his partner. A small crowd of onlookers were gathering, watching like they were being entertained by the three men. A few started openly speculating on why they thought Malachi had been stopped.

As Malachi removed his hand from under his coat, someone pointed and yelled, "He's got a gun! Waistband in the back!" The second officer pulled the trigger, sending the Taser probes into Malachi's chest. With a muffled cry, Malachi collapsed, twitching as the voltage hit him. Disoriented, he was handcuffed and searched before he could think clearly again. His weapon, backup, and knife had been removed, along with a baggie filled with small white rocks.

"Crack," the first officer said. "You're under arrest."

Realizing he'd been set up by the prostitute, Malachi resigned himself to being taken into custody. It'd be up to the Embassy to untangle this, and he knew his superiors, especially the Director, was not going to be pleased. Damn it, he thought. He underestimated this DiNozzo again. He knew he'd been a cop in Baltimore, and should have realized he'd have contacts in the city still. He looked around as he was loaded into the back of the cruiser, hoping to spot Solah. Nothing. He cursed under his breath, furious at being played.

From a shadow a half block away on the other side of the street, Tony smiled as the cruiser drove off. One down. He wasn't sure he could physically make it the few blocks to where Solah was hunting for him. He'd have to rely on Sapphire for an update.

A cousin of hers, a mid-level drug runner, had spread the word that a bad-ass group was in town and was making trouble on their turf. The dare/challenge Sapphire passed onto her cousin on Tony's behalf was to get them arrested without killing them. Without Solah being aware, he was slowly encircled by a network of gang members. As they moved closer, one of them stepped out in front of Solah and raised a AK-47, pointing it at Solah.

Solah stopped in his tracks, looking warily at the man and the weapon. Holding up his hands in a gesture of non-hostility, Solah moved slowly, calculating how to take the gunman down as quietly as possible. To his rear, he heard the sound of another weapon being racked - then another, and another, and yet another, all from different directions. He froze, carefully looking around. In shadows around him, he saw tattooed males in gang colors with cold hard faces all pointing weapons at him. What was going on?

He was herded towards a bar several dozen feet away, motioning and pointing with their weapon barrels. He complied, trying to find an advantage so he could escape. As he entered the bar, he was pushed from behind into a table, spilling the drinks of the couple in deep conversation. The couple jumped back, yelling at him. Trying to recover his feet, one of the men aimed his gun directly at his head, telling him in a low harsh voice, "Stop." As he kept moving, he heard a handgun being cocked behind his back. He froze.

Within a minute, he heard a car race up and stop in front of the bar door. A couple of cops entered, and looked around. The bar bouncer pointing directly at him, "He's got a weapon - tried to make trouble." Looking around, Solah didn't see any of the gunmen. They'd all vanished. What was happening?

In less than a minute, he found himself searched, stripped of his weapons, handcuffed, and shoved into the back of a cruiser, headed for the local jail. Looking out his back window for Malachi, he saw no one except the initial gunman who waved to him with a huge grin on his face. Swearing in Hebrew, he wondered again how he managed to end up in this situation. Eli David was not going to be happy. Jerking his hands against the handcuffs, he growled in frustration. DiNozzo! This somehow involved DiNozzo. He knew he should have slit his throat while still in the hospital.

During the next several hours, there were an unusual number of reports of gunmen causing trouble in the local area bars, diners, apartment lobbies, gas stations, and a supermarket. By the time dawn was breaking, the area was buzzing over the strange events. The cops were scratching their heads, and the locals were looking smug.

Sapphire grinned as she closed her cell, looking towards the alleyway where Tony waited. She did a shimmy and strutted a few feet as a message to him that her cousin had reported they had no more possible strangers wandering their turf. With a small wave of acknowledgement, Tony took a deep breath for the first time in a long while. The most obvious of his hunters had been taken out. He'd come back after this mess was over and thank her properly.

Pushing off, he slipped back into the alleyway heading for the car that had been left for his use by one of Sapphire's friends. He kept the Colt revolver in his hand that had been "lent" to him by another of her friends. He suspected it was a dirty gun, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

Coming to the next street, he crouched behind a pile of cardboard boxes and spent several minutes studying the street, looking for anyone who didn't look like they belonged there. Not spotting anyone, he was still wary of crossing to the alleyway on the other side of the street. Rule eight: never assume. Were there any other Mossad or Kidon operatives out there waiting for him to surface?

Looking around, he tried to scope out an alternative to crossing the street at that point. Briefly, he wondered if there were any underground passage ways, but he doubted he had the energy to scout around to find the entrances if they even existed. Miracles like that happened only once in a lifetime. He felt overwhelmed with exhaustion. Lightheaded from the lack of food, thirsty, and aching, he gave himself permission to feel sorry for himself for several breaths before kicking himself in the figurative arse and to get back to work.

Resigning himself to the risk, he rose, and took a deep breath. He'd removed the jumpsuit a while back and now regretted it as the morning coldness bit at him. Slipping into the lanky unhurried stride of a man without a care heading home, he made his way across the street and into the alleyway without trouble. The car was straight ahead at the end of the alleyway, a hundred yards further on.

Studying the dark alley, he moved along carefully, staying close to the wall. Varying his pace to make it difficult for anyone aiming, he paused frequently to listen for any movement. He was half way down the alley when a round ricocheted off a dumpster just behind him. He fell, his leg burning…


	13. Chapter 13

_**All of you continue to amaze me with your reviews! Fortunately, I'm not yet out of virtual chocolate, so I'm sending out another round of specially selected and gift wrapped chocolate delights to each of you in gratitude. And remember, cat hair is as good as fiber, which we all need more of in our diet. **_

_**SASundance, I'm afraid that if I were to occupy a closet with Ms Cranky, there would be a grave need for more bandaids than I have in the house. She really is a sweet ol' lady-kitty. Except when she isn't. I promise I will continue to write quickly, even if it isn't in the closet. **_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS, just borrowing the characters for a little fun.**_

Chapter 13

Hitting the ground and scuttling behind a pile of produce boxes (_rotten produce, oh joy_), Tony twisted around looking frantically for the shooter. Not seeing any movement back along the alleyway, he looked up and just caught movement near the fire escape ladder on the building roof above. Freezing in place, he waited patiently for the shooter to show himself again.

A couple of minutes passed in stillness, then he spotted a tiny flicker of something. Holding his breath he waited, Colt ready. Movement - subtle, slippery, gliding to the fire escape ladder barely twenty feet above on the other side of the alley. Barely breathing, he aimed, finger squeezing. He fired, and ducked back down. Not hearing the expected return fire, he raised his head cautiously and peered up at the fire escape. Hanging face down over the railing, he could see someone slowly sliding downward. The body slipped free and fell to the ground, landing with a thud, not moving.

Still suspicious, Tony didn't move from his location. Wiggling the bottom of his shirt up, he used his belt knife to cut off several strips, wrapping them around his thigh where blood oozed from a bullet graze. _Great_, he thought, _a new leaky place_. Gibbs was going to kill him. He could feel the headslap now. Maybe it'd take his mind off his leg. And shoulder.

Waiting a minute, listening, and not hearing anything new, Tony finally pushed himself up. Now or never, he told himself. Moving over to the body, he prodded it with his foot, keeping the Colt aimed and ready to fire. A large pool of blood was slowly spreading around the dead man's head, and Tony could see he'd hit his throat. Nothing he could do for the man now.

As he slowly limped toward the car, he kept feeling itching between his shoulders as if he were being targeted, but he was too tired to move any faster. Reaching the car, he cleared it before opening the door and sliding into the driver's seat. Please, he thought, no more problems.

On the passenger seat were several bottles of water, and a couple of sandwiches. With a silent thank you to Sapphire and her "friends", he twisted the top off a bottle of water and drank it down without stopping.

Laying the Colt on the seat next to him, he turned the key in the ignition and the car started. He noted the gas tank was full. The size of the gift he would buy Sapphire grew. Releasing his breath, he put the car in gear and steered it out of the alley. It wouldn't take long now with the morning light for someone to spot the body and he wanted to be long away before then.

Taking a long, circular, tangled route around Baltimore, checking and rechecking for a tail, he finally pointing the nose of the car towards DC. He frequently exited the freeway, circling neighborhoods checking again for tails. As he drew close to DC, he finished off the two sandwiches and another bottle of water. Finally feeling less lightheaded, he allowed himself to shed a little of the tension that had been keeping him company since he'd woke in that hotel room. Maybe, just maybe, he'd make it back to safe territory without dragging along a tail of killers. No way would he put his friends in danger by leading a pack of Kidon back to home base.

Day had come while he'd been driving, and it approached mid-morning before he exited the freeway. Meandering around for another half-hour checking for tails, he finally parked on a quiet neighborhood street. He locked the car and hobbled quietly between houses cutting through to the next block. He paused for a long look before he made his way across the street, and again slipped between houses to the next block over. Easing through one final hedge, he waited, watching from a concealed spot for anything that didn't "belong". A half hour later he finally entered the house through the unlocked back door.

Holding the Colt ready, he carefully and quickly cleared the house before he finally relaxed. Grabbing a first aid kit from the bathroom, and a cell phone battery from the recharger, he headed down into the basement. Poking around under the long workbench, he hunted through and around boxes for several minutes before he straightened with a faint grin, one of Gibbs' cell phones in hand where he'd dumped it in disgust weeks or months earlier, then promptly forgot. Swapping out the long dead battery for the newly recharged one, he powered it on just long enough to send a one word message to a familiar number, "Rotgut".

Sinking down under the stairs, he looked at his leg. Blood had started seeping through the makeshift bandages sometime since he left the car. He'd check and re-wrap it in just a minute. He just wanted to relax for a minute and enjoy the quiet. Just a minute, that's all…. Sliding to the side, he slipped into the first decent sleep he'd had in days.

-000-

Gibbs was tired and far beyond being a bastard. The last couple of days had been a bust in the hunt for his SFA. Every Israeli safe house in and around DC had been raided, as well as several other safe houses of other "friendly" forces and, there had been no trace of Tony in any of them.

Every free agent had been working around the clock checking out lead after lead, some well into their second or third day of non-stop work. Tony was well-liked throughout the DC office, and between that and being ticked at the politics behind what was happening, the agents were determined to find their missing friend.

NCIS and FBI agents had finished mapping out Rivkin's activities when he was in the states, as well as tracing the finances supporting him. Very little time was left unaccounted for now, and the details provided solid, irrefutable evidence of what he'd done. And what Ziva had done.

The political pissing match between State and NCIS had been kicked up the ladder to people paid more than Gibbs and Vance combined to resolve. So far, the Secretary of Defense had been stonewalling the Secretary of State. Gibbs didn't give a rip about any of that. Nothing mattered except getting Tony back safe and sound.

Abby and McGee had been closeted in Abby's lab, working hard on something that McGee had told him he didn't want to know about. Vance studied the screen over McGee's shoulders, closed his eyes as he stepped back, then informed Gibbs he didn't want to know what McGee was doing either. He left the lab with a hurried stride and hadn't been back since then.

Fornell had transferred Ziva to FBI headquarters, and told the Israeli Ambassador that she was being held as a material witness in an ongoing investigation. Pressure from the State Department to release her was mounting, but so far the FBI Director was "unavailable and out of town." Fornell had been sending in a steady stream of agents to question Ziva about her duties and activities at NCIS without interrogating her himself yet. Furious and threatening to kill everyone within earshot, she was livid, demanding to speak to Gibbs.

So it was amidst all this chaos that McGee sent word to Gibbs that he had something. Vance and Gibbs made their way down to the lab. Striding in with a Caf-Pow for Abby, and a strong cup of coffee for McGee, Gibbs demanded, "What do you have, McGee."

With a big grin, McGee eyed Vance and Gibbs, "Something that will make Director David very angry, I think." Spinning his chair around, he typed rapidly while Abby danced in a circle, almost crowing with excitement. Hitting a final key, McGee mirrored his screen on the big plasma display in Abby's lab. The display filled with scrolling lines of what looked like financial information.

Stepping up to stand next to Vance and Gibbs, McGee said tiredly, "We're still working on the blackmail files, but meanwhile, Director David has been a real…he's been preparing himself for after he retired I think. I've found five accounts so far that he set up in various countries – Switzerland, Cayman Islands, Dubai, Singapore, and Luxemburg – all hidden and all loaded. He has close to a quarter billion Euros stashed away total. I doubt his Mossad pay allowed him to stash away a nest egg quite that size. And there are quite a few transfers _out _of these accounts also. We're tracking them down, but from the few we've managed to identify, they're obviously pay offs."

Vance asked, "Has anyone discovered your….investigations into this?"

McGee shook his head, "No. Abby and I took more time covering our tracks than in hac…er, investigating. We erased our tracks completely and backed out. We have the data copied here."

He grinned again, "But, his dreams of retiring to some rich tropical paradise may have hit a bit of a roadblock. Seem as though all his money ended up being donated to charities around the world. Completely anonymous donations. He's now broke."

Wincing, Vance closed his eyes, "I don't want to hear about any of this. Back the data up to portable devices and wipe every last trace of it off the servers. Bring the data to me when you're done."

Gibbs said, "The blackmail material?"

McGee exchanged looks with Abby, "We have an idea where it might be, and are still working on it, boss."

Looking both of them over carefully, Gibbs ordered, "Get some rest. Here - I don't want you going off the base. Be back here in three hours and find those files."

As Gibbs followed Vance into the elevator, he asked, "What will you do with the information they've found?"

Vance thought, not speaking until the doors opened. As he stepped off, he told Gibbs, "Give me some time. I need to make some calls."

Gibbs nodded, and turned towards the bullpen just as his phone notified him of a new message. He didn't recognize the phone number, but the message brought him up short. "Rotgut" He stood studying it for several seconds before he felt a flash of uncertain excitement run through him. Rotgut. _Rotgut_.

_**A/N: It's time again to disappear for the weekend to work on all the fun stuff involved in cat rescue (cleaning litter boxes, clipping claws – preferably before they use them on the clipper snipper, wiping snotty noses and runny eyes, cramming pills down throats while avoiding nice shiny sharp teeth, and other exciting chores). The next chapter will be up Monday night. Have a good weekend!**_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Ok, ok, I know - what's going on here, you ask. I had this chapter almost ready to go on Thursday, and stayed up way late to finish tidying it up, so I thought I'd post it as a bonus for all the great reviews received. Any typos or oddities can be blamed on late-night editing. Back to "work" now. Enjoy! **_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS, just borrowing the characters for a little fun.**_

Chapter 14

Making his way to his desk, he grabbed the phone and called security. "Henry, are those Seals still in the Yard?" He listened then grabbed his weapon, holstering it, "Tell them to gear up and meet me in receiving on the double."

He ran up the steps to Vance's office, striding in without knocking, "DiNozzo might have surfaced. I'm taking the Seals with me. I'll call." With a startled look, Vance had no time to reply before Gibbs pivoted and disappeared. Shaking his head, he opened a drawer and pulled out a new box of toothpicks.

-000-

Gibbs called Fornell on the way. "DiNozzo may have surfaced. I'll call as soon as I know anything."

Before he could hang up, Fornell started talking, "Gibbs, something's happening with the Israelis. We've had agents watching the embassy since this mess started. They reported that someone stuck a stick in and stirred up quite a reaction. Several of their diplomatic staff, including Bashan, just took off in several cars heading north in a big hurry. The agents are tailing them."

Gibbs told him, "Keep me posted, and let McGuire know DiNozzo might have surfaced," and hung up. He thought with a half-amused huff, sounds like something DiNozzo might cause.

Pulling to the curb a couple of blocks from his house, he nodded to Rich Bodin, the Commander, as the Seals exited their transport and fanned out. As they melted into the neighborhood, he waited impatiently. After fifteen long minutes, his phone beeped and he read the message, "Clear".

Stomping on the gas, he raced to his house, not bothering with the driveway as he pulled up. Bodin briefly showed himself to Gibbs before sinking back into cover. Striding through the front door, Gibbs pulled his Sig Saur out and began to silently clear his house. He'd instructed Bodin to wait until he was present before clearing the house. If DiNozzo was inside, he'd shoot anyone he didn't recognize first, and ask questions later. Seals were doing the same from the back door. It took less than a minute to clear the first and second floor, and Gibbs found himself standing at the top of the stairs to the basement, listening intently.

He motioned for the closest Seal to hold position while he slowly slipped down the stairs, Sig following his line of sight as he moved. Reaching the floor, he silently made his way around the frame of his boat, clearing under it before moving around to the other side. When he looked back toward the stairway, his breath stopped. A body was slumped over under his stairs. A blow of anxiety hammered his gut. DiNozzo? He couldn't tell yet.

Moving forward cautiously, he strained to see more details in the dim light. It wasn't until he was almost within touching distance that he could see the man's face. Tony. Was he alive? He could see a bandage wrapped around his left leg, dried blood showing where it'd seeped through. Holstering his weapon he knelt down and held his breath as he reached out to feel for a pulse at his throat. Tony didn't stir. With an intense feeling of relief, he could feel a slow heartbeat. His throat almost swelled shut as he was nearly overwhelmed with relief. He had to clear his throat before calling, "Clear. He's here. Need a medic."

As the Commander followed one of the Seals down the stairs, he radioed soft orders to the rest of his team. Coming up behind Gibbs, he said softly, "The area is secured. If anyone approaches the house, we'll be ready."

The three men eased Tony out from under the stairs. The medic did a quick check before telling Gibbs, "Let's move him upstairs. It'll be easier to work on him there."

The two Seals lifted Tony and had him up the stairs and over to the couch in one smooth easy trip. The medic slit the pant leg open and peeled the impromptu bandage off Tony's leg. With a groan, Tony stirred. Opening his eyes, he saw the Seal bending over him. In a scant second, he had the Colt out and pointing at the man's head, ordering him to back off. The medic raised his hands, showing they were empty before scooting back.

Gibbs moved into Tony's view, "Stand down, DiNozzo."

Tony's eyes opened wide as he saw Gibbs. "Boss, you got my message." He lowered the Colt and slumped back, "Finally."

Gibbs moved toward his side and removed the Colt from Tony's grasp. "Yeah, I'm here. You're safe. Just relax. Let the medic take a look at your leg." The man moved back, nodding to Tony. "Name's George. Looks like you got yourself shot at."

Tony nodded, glancing around before settling his gaze back on Gibbs. "What's happened?" he asked, before sucking his breath in sharply as the medic started cleaning the graze on his leg.

Gibbs stayed where Tony could see him. He could see the exhaustion and tension in Tony's face. "You didn't have to go to all this trouble if you didn't want to stay in the hospital, DiNozzo." He gave his agent one of his half-smiles.

Tony forced himself to stay awake. He had been in such a deep sleep, and his body wanted so bad to sink back into that peaceful state. "Didn't have much of a choice, boss."

Gibbs asked the medic, "He up for a sit rep?"

"A short one. Let me get him patched up first." He was already winding a clean bandage around the leg wound. He asked Tony, "I know about your shoulder and ribs. Anything else hurting?"

Tony closed his eyes and automatically said, "I'm fine."

Gibbs growled, and Tony opened his eyes, looking at his boss warily. Revising his statement, he hastily said, "Bumps, bruises here and there. Shoulder still aches."

George snorted, grinning, "Ok. I'll buy that for now." Examining the cast on Tony's lower arm, brushing off a layer of dust and bits of loose flakes, he asked, "How'd you get this so dirty? What is this stuff?"

Tony looked at the cast, "Drywall dust I think."

Gibbs asked, "Drywall dust? What'd you do, break through a wall?"

Tony looked at him in surprise, "What? How'd you know…"

Gibbs stared at him levelly, not giving a sign that he was as surprised as DiNozzo was at his response. After a moment, Tony relaxed back, but kept a chary eye on Gibbs.

George pulled out an IV bag, leaving Tony asking nervously, "What's with the IV?"

As he set it up, George told him matter of factly, "Precaution. Plus there's some medications your docs want you on. One IV needle or several injections. What's your preference?"

With Gibbs present, he knew he didn't really have a choice. In a sour grumble, he said, "I'm never gonna be free from needles, I swear." He gritted his teeth as George efficiently got the IV started.

George brought out a few loaded syringes, and Tony eyed them uneasily, "What's in those?"

Holding one syringe apart from the others, he held them up, "Antibiotic, muscle relaxant, anti-inflammatory." Holding the other up, "Pain-killer. Your Ducky said you wouldn't take it, but said he made sure it was one that you've tolerated well in the past." In a very good imitation of Ducky, he continued, "Anthony, need I remind you that you owe me a favor for that autopsy report I obtained for you a while back in the Rowan murder case. I am calling in that favor now, dear boy. You shall permit this fine medic to administer this pain-killer without argument. If you do not, I assure you, I will make sure your next physical will necessitate several blood draws. Several. Now be a good boy and cooperate."

Gibbs snorted to cover a laugh. Tony glared at him. "Blackmail," he muttered under his breath. The Commander grinned, and made a strategic retreat.

George administered the medications, and followed it with retaking Tony's vital signs. As the wounded man relaxed, he said in a casual tone to Gibbs, "Ok. Make it short though since he's going to zone out fast."

Tony grumbled, growing sleepy, "That didn't sound like Ducky."

Gibbs settled on the end of the couch, still in Tony's line of sight. "Sit rep, DiNozzo."

Opening his eyes wide, Tony tried to organize his thoughts. "Ahhh, you probably know about the hospital. Malachi Ben-Gidon and Benjamin Solah…Ben-Sol, the cleaner. Baltimore hotel, near the harbor. Ben doesn't like movies," he said plaintively.

Gibbs said mildly, "You tried to convince him otherwise I'm sure."

Tony grinned around a yawn, "He really doesn't like them now."

George laughed while adjusting the IV drip.

Smirking, Gibbs prompted, "How'd you get away?"

Tony's eyes were blinking slowly now, "Secrets…." With a big yawn, he relaxed into sleep.

Gibbs grunted. "That's helpful."

George smiled, "He sounds like a real character."

Standing, Gibbs said, "And a damn good agent." Turning for the door, he asked, "How long will he be out?"

"As long as he needs, Gunny."

Bodin stepped inside, "You have visitors, Gibbs." He opened the door to let Fornell and McGuire pass inside.

"Gibbs, you planning on turning this place into a fortress?" Fornell moved to look down at DiNozzo. Nodding at his bandaged leg, he asked, "Gunshot?"

"Grazed." Gibbs led them into the kitchen where he started the coffee maker. "Sit Rep," he barked.

"Someone needs a hug," Fornell said with an amused look. "You first. Where'd you find him?" He nodded at DiNozzo.

"Didn't. He found his own way here. Didn't get as far as how before he checked out. Two names for you: Malachi Ben-Gidon and…"

McGuire interrupted, "Benjamin Solah."

Gibbs stared at her, "Speak."

She leaned against the counter, "Both men ended up in BPD custody in Baltimore. False names. Ben-Gidon was picked up for supposedly harassing a local prostitute and possession of crack cocaine. Solah was being questioned for disorderly conduct at a bar. Ben-Gidon was sporting a knife wound to the gut, another to his foot, and a rather spectacular black eye. Both were charged with multiple weapons violations. Tracked them back to a hotel, cuffs hanging from the bed frame, bloody towels, two suitcases, passports of said men, and a hospital gown." She paused for a moment, then added, "Oh, and a dead Israeli in an alleyway several blocks from the hotel. Shot in the neck. Handgun found under the body, recently fired. Blood found near a dumpster several yards from the body. And that's just the beginning."

Fornell eyed the coffee pot. "Your usual strength of industrial sludge, I take it."

"I'll make you drink it if you don't continue. How'd they determine he was an Israeli?" Gibbs asked.

Fornell picked up the report, "After the horde of Embassy staff descended on the police station and tried to get their men out, they got word that there were more than just the two reporting trouble. After they begin identifying their people who were in custody, they started asking about a missing man. Someone put two and two together and took someone who knew the man down to the morgue to ID the body. We had the body transferred to NCIS an hour ago. Ducky is working on him."

Gibbs asked, "How'd they all end up in custody?" He poured himself a cup of coffee, and McGuire and Bodin accepted his offer of a cup also. Fornell shuddered and waved him off.

Settling at the kitchen table McGuire continued. "It's quite a tale we unraveled. The police kept getting called out last night on what seemed to be routine calls in the same general area – bar brawls, disorderly conduct, harassment, assault. Every call resulted in an arrest for possession of multiple unregistered weapons, all were carrying false IDs, all were on the lists from Customs. So far, half have been identified as Israeli. I have no doubt that the rest will be also. And every one of them placed a call to the Israeli Embassy."

"How many total?"

"Including the two original arrests and the dead body? Eleven. There may be more not accounted for yet."

Gibbs was surprised, "Eleven? How did they manage to free up that many Kidon and get them into the country on such short notice?"

"We're still working on that," she said.

Fornell picked up the story after that. "A drug runner was brought in on a minor charge a few hours ago and had an interesting tale to tell. One of the gang's cousins is a streetwalker, 'Sapphire', that DiNozzo busted more than once back in his days there. He says she passed the word on from him to the gang that a bad-ass group of big-shot foreign thugs were stirring up trouble in their territory. This cousin and Sapphire are real chummy, so they bought it when he said getting them busted would humiliate them far more than aerating them."

McGuire looked intrigued, "I wouldn't have believed it myself, but…"

Fornell snorted, "That kid could sell a square mile of ocean to a pirate."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at that, "You getting soft on me, Tobias?"

With his own grin, Fornell continued, "Well, you think that's improbable, you won't believe what we found next. A call came in from a janitorial service just after their morning shift reported in for work. Seems they found an open door into one of their equipment rooms and a big hole in its wall. The debris from this hole had been scattered outward from the wall into the room, and on the other side of the wall was some sort of secret passageway. It looks like whoever had been in the passage had broken _into_ the room rather than the other way around."

Gibbs' eyes narrowed at this. He glanced at his SFA in the other room speculatively.

Continuing, Fornell said, "One of the cops followed the passageway to the other end." At this point he paused with a 'cat who swallowed the canary' expression, almost grinning.

Growling, Gibbs ordered, "Talk!"

Still looking incredibly smug, sharing a look with McGuire who looked bemused, he added, "The passage ended in a maintenance room on the second floor of the hotel where DiNutzo had been held captive. Just down the hall from the room, in fact. It was hidden behind a large electric panel in the room. And his fingerprints were on the outside of the panel. The hotel staff had no idea the passage existed."

McGuire said, "How in the world did he know about it?"

Finishing up, Fornell added, "I'd love to read his report after he writes this one up. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I'd never have believed it."

Gibbs sat staring into his coffee, his expression unreadable.

"Jethro," Fornell said exasperatedly, "Aren't you even curious about this?"

Looking up, Gibbs smiled enigmatically, "Nope. You think I keep him around just for his looks?" In reality, he was as surprised and nonplussed as Fornell.

McGuire shook her incredulity aside, then reported, "The row between State and NCIS has just hit the boiling point. State is screaming for someone's head, complaining that the relations with Israel are beyond strained now. They want DiNozzo turned over immediately, and want all those who were arrested released without charges being filed. SecDev told 'em to go take a hike. Looks like it'll end up in the big office today some time." She sighed, "What a mess."

Gibbs smiled, "Only DiNozzo…"

With a guffaw, Fornell agreed. "I'll buy him a beer just to hear the story straight from beginning to end."

"Any released or bailed out yet?" Gibbs asked.

"Nope. Negotiations are underway between the DA and the Israeli diplomats. It's a little hard to claim they were set up by the person who they'd kidnapped in the first place. State sent someone down to 'mediate'. That should keep them out of our hair for a while."

As Gibbs refilled his coffee mug, Fornell asked, "Now what?"

"We take care of DiNozzo. McGee is hunting still for the blackmail material. He and Abby found secret bank accounts David set up stuffed full of Euros. They 'anonymously' donated all of it to charity. Vance is working his end of it."

While Bodin merely looked faintly surprised and McGuire startled, Fornell laughed then said, "We'll add the secret bank account information to the package, but keep it in the confidential notes section so it's not passed on. Does David know about it yet?"

Gibbs shrugged. "We need that blackmail data before we can move with what we have on David. Without that, there's no guarantee that he'll cave and call off this vendetta against DiNozzo." Gibbs sipped his coffee.

Nodding, Fornell asked, "Anything the bureau can do to help?"

"Maybe Trent has more info on the material than he's shared."

Fornell grimaced, "I suppose you want me to go ask him nicely about it."

As he rose to leave, McGuire also got to her feet, "I think I'll head up to Baltimore and poke around a bit, see what I can pick up. I'm leaving a couple of my people to coordinate with the Commander here on Agent DiNozzo's protection detail." She pointed to her coffee mug, "This is not coffee, Gibbs. You need to add a couple more scoops of grind." At Gibbs confounded look, she followed Fornell out.

Pulling himself together, Gibbs pulled out his cell and called Ducky. "Got DiNozzo at my house. Need you over here. He's got a new ding. Pick up Brad on your way if you think he's needed. I want to get him in and out of this surgery before anything else happens to him." He hung up before Ducky could say anything.

He looked at Bodin who said, "I'll let the team know they're coming."

As Bodin left, he next called Vance and briefed him. He could almost feel Vance's headache grow as he talked. Muttering something about SecNav, Vance hung up on him. With a fresh cup of coffee, he moved back to the living room to wait for Ducky. "Only you, DiNozzo…._"_

George, who'd been listening to the briefing, looked at him, "So, he gets kidnapped by Kidon, escapes via a secret tunnel no one knows about, cons a street gang into taking out the bad guys for him, kills someone sniping at him, and makes it back here from Baltimore without being followed, while injured, leaving behind an international boiling pot. All in a day's work for him I take it?"

Nodding, Gibbs took another sip of coffee.

George laughed, then settled back to keep an eye on Tony while waiting for Ducky.

-000-

The next morning, Tony, grumbling non-stop under his breath, as he was "escorted" back to Bethesda where he was admitted and immediately sent into surgery. Gibbs threatened him with desk work for six months if he didn't behave himself. Tony glared at Gibbs but didn't dare say anything, at least until he was out of earshot.

The security was incredibly tight. The Seals provided the innermost ring, letting no one not personally escorted by Ducky or Brad near Tony. Teams of NCIS and the FBI Special Security Force Agents covered the hospital and grounds. Gibbs told the head of each team that if Tony was kidnapped again, they wouldn't be going home alive that evening, especially after he heard the Israelis in custody had been released the night before.

Gibbs was summoned to FBI headquarters for a meeting between the FBI, the SecNav and NCIS, the Justice Department, representatives from the State Department, and the President's Chief of Staff. With a disgusted scowl after receiving the summons from Vance, Gibbs had to restrain himself from throwing his cell phone through a window. Of all the times to be pulled away from DiNozzo's side…

_**A/N: The question has been asked several times as to why DiNozzo didn't call Gibbs after he escaped. He didn't know how many Israeli were around and didn't want to expose the team to the danger they posed - he just wanted to take care of the problem, then get back to DC as quickly as possible. As illogical as it may seem, there are several episodes where this behavior is modeled: Requiem, Twisted Sister are two off the top of my head I can cite. **_


	15. Chapter 15

_**Wow – I had a brand new delivery of virtual Godiva truffles. I'm sending them out to everyone to enjoy for all the reviews and PMs I've been receiving. I'm still stunned beyond words at how many my little story has received. I hope the upcoming chapters continue to meeting your expectations! Things are heating up a bit…**_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS, just borrowing the characters for a little fun.**_

Chapter 15

Striding into the meeting just as it was being called to order, Gibbs took his place by Vance's side. Seeing Deputy Secretary of State Elliot, he glared at her.

She jumped in before introductions even started, "Special Agent Gibbs, I hear that Special Agent DiNozzo has conveniently shown up. How fortunate for you and your Director. State won't have to deal with any further delays now in turning him over to the Israelis."

With a look that promised serious repercussions, Gibbs fired back, "He's not going anywhere, Miz Elliot. He's in the hospital undergoing surgery as we speak to repair broken bones and a gunshot wound he received at the hands of the Israelis."

Before she could reply, the President's Chief of Staff John Smith cut in, referring to written notes he had with him. "Before we decide anything, let's look at the facts. Agent Fornell, you indicated you had evidence to back up your assertion that Special Agent DiNozzo was following up on intelligence that had been developed by NCIS on illegal activities by Mossad Officer Michael Rivkin, is that correct?"

Nodding, Fornell answered, "Yes, sir. We've traced Rivkin's activities from the time he entered the US until his death. He'd been tracking down members of a radical Islamic cell who were in the States to meet with an arms dealer called 'Liam.' This group was here to negotiate the purchase of arms and ammunition for a terrorist training camp located in Somalia.

"Rivkin was tracked down and confronted in Los Angeles where he was the prime suspect in the murder of two cell members. He was warned off and ordered to leave the country - twice. He traveled back to DC to continue his activities. This included killing yet again another terrorist, and while attempting to bug the residence of the Secretary of the Navy, he murdered an ICE agent who was part of a security detail guarding the Secretary and his guests."

Elliot broke in, "And what is wrong with killing off terrorists? That's a good thing and I can't imagine why you and this NCIS are finding fault with what Rivkin did." She sat back, crossed her arms, and looked at the law enforcement present with a scowl.

Fornell looked as if he'd swallowed something sour. "First off, Ms Elliot, those terrorists would have been far more valuable to us alive. We aren't able to interrogate them when they're dead. Who knows what additional information they could have provided us with if we'd had the chance to question them. Second, we do not allow foreign operatives to operate within the US. And third, the US government doesn't allow anyone to commit murder in our country, especially the killing of a federal Special Agent. What part of _that _do you not understand?"

Elliot ticked Fornell off further when she flapped a hand at him as if swatting away an insect, dismissing his concerns.

Before he could continue, Secretary of Navy Davenport, spoke, "Now, let's just settle down. No point in fighting among ourselves when we have far more important enemies to focus our attention on."

Stabbing the table with a finger, Elliot said, "Exactly. And we need all the allies we can muster to help us with the fight against terrorism. We must turn Agent DiNozzo over to the Israelis. If he's as innocent as you claim, then he'll be found not guilty and turned loose. I fail to see what the problem is here. All we're doing by dragging our feet on this is creating animosity with a valuable ally. Is it worth the security of our country by trying to protect this agent of yours?"

Gibbs slammed his fist down on the tabletop, making everyone in the room jump. "Every piece of evidence we've collected has proved that DiNozzo's statements about Rivkin are accurate. I will not have you using him as a political pawn in your games, Elliot."

Elliot stood and leaned over the table at Gibbs, hands braced on the desktop, "And how can we trust that the evidence you've collected hasn't been cherry-picked to protect your agent?" She practically spat the words out, sinking back down.

Vance looked at Elliot with an icy expression, "Justice has had time to review most of the evidence. What do they have to report?"

The lawyers from Justice leafed through their notes as Assistant Attorney General Jane Jones addressed those present, "The evidence is overwhelming, Deputy Secretary. It substantiates the scenario developed by NCIS and the FBI. Officer Rivkin entered this country as an agent of a foreign power, committed multiple counts of murder, obstructed a federal investigation into terrorism, murdered a federal agent, attacked and seriously injured another federal agent, and refused to cease his activities and leave the country when ordered to do so."

He looked to the President's Chief of Staff, "It is the opinion of the Justice Department that Special Agent DiNozzo was attacked while trying to apprehend Officer Rivkin and take him into custody, and was forced to defend himself. Given the fact that Officer Rivkin was a member of an Israeli Kidon team, it seems reasonable that Agent DiNozzo was obliged to use deadly force to protect himself. The Justice Department sees no compelling legal reason to render Special Agent DiNozzo to the Israelis."

Elliot refused to back down, "And why was Special Agent DiNozzo at Officer David's apartment in the first place? If he went there to arrest Officer Rivkin, then he has to admit that he knew Rivkin was there. He deliberately went there to confront him. And don't tell me he was going to consult with his 'partner'. She knew he'd been trying to interfere with her relationship with Rivkin. He went there to confront Rivkin because he was jealous of that relationship! It had nothing to do with this _investigation._"

Gibbs looked ready to pull out his Sig and shoot Elliot where she sat. "He went there to look into information just uncovered during the investigation. He had no idea Rivkin was at the apartment. Last he knew, Rivkin had been ordered to be on a flight to Tel Aviv that evening." His look changed to one of curiosity, "Interesting accusation, Miz Elliot. How could you possibly know enough about the parties involved to speculate on relationships and motives?"

Elliot froze for an instance at his question, her expression guarded, before she scoffed at Gibbs, "He's guilty of unprofessional conduct that led to the murder of an Israeli. And your efforts to protect him won't work."

Fornell and Gibbs exchanged looks. Fornell was wondering how long it'd be before Gibbs lost his temper and clocked this arrogant woman. Vance apparently was wondering the same thing and sat forward, smoothing his tie down with one hand.

Before he could speak, there was a knock at the door. McGee, looking exhausted, opened the door and nodded to Gibbs. Standing, Gibbs followed his agent out of the room. "What do you have, McGee?"

Too tired to even look excited, McGee passed over a folder he'd brought with him, "Found them - printed a few samples for you. The files cover activities across the board – murder, rape, fraud, money laundering, racketeering, extortion, infidelity, undisclosed mental illness, blackmail by and to others, escort services, bank fraud, you name it, it's there. All documented. The people involved - business figures, politicians, government employees, bankers, financiers, arms dealers, royalty….it's a virtual who's who listing." He passed a thumb drive to Gibbs, "It's all there – the raw data that is. I haven't had time to do more than skim some of it.

"I dunno if it was the right thing to do, but after I copied the files off, I randomly deleted a good part of them, then scrambled and altered parts of the remaining data. He'll need to compare what's there with other sources to figure out what parts are accurate and which have been altered. Won't stop him, but it will cost him some extra time to check it before using it."

Pulling out a printout from the folder, he handed it to Gibbs. "You might find this of particular interest right now."

Gibbs read through the page. After a minute, he slid the document back into folder. With a rare smile, he told McGee, "Good job, Tim. Good job."

"Can I go to the hospital then? Abby's been driving me nuts wanting to be with Tony, and well, I want to see how he's doing."

Nodding, Gibbs told him, "Go ahead. Take Abby. Call me if he gets out of surgery before I get there. Then get yourself home and get some sleep. And make sure Abby does too. And make sure her security detail stays with her."

Hefting the folder, he stood up straighter, feeling like things might turn the corner here for the better, and Deputy Secretary Elliot wasn't gonna be happy with him because of it. With the barest smile, he headed back into the room.

-000-

Davenport was doing his best to convince Elliott that she should take a close look at the evidence gathered, and she'd agree that Agent DiNozzo wasn't a rogue killer. All he was getting for his effort was a dismissive snort. He looked to the President's Chief of Staff and shrugged.

Taking his seat at the table again, Gibbs scanned back through the folder again before passing it to Vance. "She isn't interested in whether DiNozzo's innocent or not, Mr. Secretary, and she isn't interested in the evidence to prove it. And she just might be as dense as she seems." He paused as Jane Jones laughed quietly and leaned back, mumbling under her breath, "Call a spade a spade." Others in the room hid their amusement. Gibbs continued, "But, that's not why she's being so pig-headed. Is it, Miz. Elliot?"

Sitting back in her chair, crossing her arms, she smiled haughtily at him, "I am certainly _not_ stupid, Special Agent Gibbs, and I will be bringing up your derogatory comments with the Secretary. And I have no idea what you're implying, either."

"Oh, I think you do." He pulled what looked like a bank statement from the folder Vance was still looking through, Fornell looking over his shoulder intently. He slid it across the table to her. "Look familiar?"

Leaning forward, she picked up the sheet and glanced over it. Within seconds, her face turned white and her expression shocked. "Where did you get this? You're not authorized to…." She bit off her words, looking worried for the first time.

When Gibbs didn't reply, but just stared at her with cold, deadly eyes, Secretary Davenport asked, "Gibbs?"

Without removing his eyes from her, he said quietly, "Miz Elliot was being bought off by Eli David. Several wire transfers for hundreds of thousands of dollars were made to a secret bank account she has in the Cayman Islands from a secret bank account traced back to Director David. Was he paying you to look the other way? Carry his agenda? Why was he paying you?"

The Justice staff sat back, looking surprised. Jane Jones looked sharply at Elliot though, and grabbed the document from Elliot's hands.

Elliot's face paled even further, and she looked faint. "What?"

Gibbs looked to Fornell, "I think that Ms Elliot needs a quiet place to recover from her obvious shock."

Straightening, Fornell raised his eyebrows, asking Gibbs silently if he was serious. Gibbs tipped his head slightly to one side in response.

Fornell summoned an escort for Elliot, instructing the agent to take her to a smaller conference room just outside the lockup below and keep her under guard. Without a word, a shaken Elliot went quietly.

Chief of Staff John Smith looked toward the document thoughtfully, but didn't ask to see it. "Is this going to come back to bite the President, Special Agent Gibbs?"

Vance took a deep breath before addressing Smith and Davenport, "This," he said, pointing at the folder, "is a small part of a much larger cache of documents we just obtained. It details various…items and actions that have been used to blackmail or pay off people in positions of influence and power. Looking at the two men, he asked, "How much do you want to know?"

The Chief of Staff asked cautiously, "Was this obtained legally?"

After an uncomfortable silence, Vance finally answered, "It was uncovered as a consequence of our investigation."

Vance nodded, "Yes. And when Director David finds out that we have this, he's not going to be happy."

The Chief of Staff inhaled sharply, nodded, and said, "This is a copy? So he still has the files?"

Gibbs interjected, "Yes. However, the information was altered, parts deleted, scrambled. He'll have to clean it up before he can use it again. And, he'll go after who he thinks tampered with it. It's his protection, and his weapon."

"Damn," the Chief of Staff whispered as the implications sunk in.

Gibbs stood and leaned towards the man, hands planted on the table, voice quiet yet deadly, "The first use of this will be to protect my agent."

Leaning back away from Gibbs, the Chief of Staff studied Gibbs keenly. After several seconds, he nodded and asked, "What do you need?"

Gibbs leaned forward, intent and forceful, "I need someone to put the Israeli government on notice that they better take care of Eli David, rein him in, or there will be consequences. They need to call off their operatives, recall them, whatever they need to do to stop trying to kill my agent."

Everyone paused to listen as faint gunshots were heard. Everyone rose, and Fornell and Gibbs moved towards the door. Fornell's phone rang, jarring everyone in the room. Flipping it open, Fornell said, "Yes." After a short pause, he said, "I'll be right there. Lock the place down." With his hand on the door, he looked back, "Internal security breach. Shots fired in the lock up below us."

Gibbs growled, "Ziva. They're trying to free her. How the hell did they get in, Fornell?"

Opening the door, Fornell yelled at him, "I dunno, but heads are going to roll over this." He paused, looking back at the others in the room, "Stay here until we get things under control."

Vance nodded, face hardened and determined, his weapon drawn. He stepped out of the room to talk with the security details for the Chief of Staff and SecNav who were stationed in the hallway. Returning to the room, he noted, "If this is indeed an effort to free Officer David, then things have just taken a turn for the worse. If Director David has ordered this attack, then he's even more dangerous than we estimated. At this point, we can't predict what he might do."

He addressed the Chief of Staff, "What do you want done with this….information, sir?"

Standing, the man nodded towards Jones and said, "Copy Assistant Attorney General Jones on it. I'll be in touch with further instructions."

Gibbs returned to the room, listening intently to someone on his cell. Hanging up, he told the Chief of Staff, "That was Officer Bashan, the Mossad Station Chief at the Israeli Embassy. He wants to meet with us urgently. He's heading to NCIS headquarters. Amit Hadar's been killed and dumped on the Embassy's door step."

Vance asked, "Do they know who…."

Gibbs replied, "That's part of what he wants to meet with us about."

Fornell returned, holstering his weapon. "We're locked down. David is still in custody. Two agents were shot and injured in the attack. Three shooters entered the building using valid FBI credentials, and headed straight down to the lock up. They're in custody, but two of them are headed to the hospital with gunshot wounds." He turned to the Chief of Staff, "Deputy Secretary of State Ellis was in a conference room just outside of the lockup. She was shot dead. Not sure if it was intentional or incidental."

Vance was making his own call, talking to security at the Navy Yard, locking NCIS headquarters down, and ordering the Yard to step up security measures.

Gibbs finished briefing Commander Bodin at Bethesda, and ordered him to lock the hospital down. Hanging up, he called McGee next but got his voicemail. He yelled into the phone, "McGee, rule three. Where are you? Take Abby back to the Navy Yard immediately. And have Palmer's protection detail get him back to the Yard on the double. Don't leave her, do you hear me?"

As soon as he hung up, Gibbs' phone rang again, "Yeah, Gibbs." Several seconds passed then he hung up. "Bashan was shot at just outside the Yard gate. He's unharmed, but his driver's dead. This whole thing is escalating rapidly. Eli David is out of control. We need to get someone in Israel moving to take him out and recall these people of his."

The Chief of Staff motioned to his security detail, telling the lead agent, "We're leaving." He turned back to state, "I need to get back to the White House and brief the President. Mr. Secretary, Director Vance, and Ms. Jones, I want you to accompany me; you have information that the President will need to hear. Bring those documents with you."

Vance turned to Gibbs, "Get back to the Yard; find out what's going on. I'll be there as soon as I can." He moved off after the Chief of Staff.

Gibbs nodded, and pushed Fornell ahead of him, "C'mon. We can sneak in the back way."

Fornell frowned, "Back way?"

Gibbs just looked amused, and hurried on, leaving Fornell looking panicky as he followed. "Gibbs? Damn it, Jethro! What back way? I've heard about your back road driving. Should I call for a priest or an ambulance to follow us? Gibbs!"


	16. Chapter 16

_**Yes, the bad guys just won't leave Tony alone. Rest assured, once he's finished with this hospitalization, he won't have to return again until someone else borrows him for another good Tony whump story. And the Israeli government is finally starting to stir and take notice of what's been going on. Just a handful of chapters to go to wrap this all up. Enjoy! And thank you for the reviews and PMs!**_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS, just borrowing the characters for a little fun.**_

Chapter 16

Gibbs entering the conference room at NCIS headquarters, followed by a pale Fornell glaring daggers at his back. Nodded to Officer Bashar, he set a fresh cup of hot coffee in front of the man and took a seat across from him looked him over. Several scattered abrasions and cuts covered Bashan's hands, arms, and face, a couple of larger ones covered with dressings. The man looked tired, weary, but otherwise unfazed – being shot at was something he was used to obviously.

Bashar asked, "Director Vance?"

Gibbs took a sip of his own coffee and replied, "He's briefing the President on recent events. He'll be here as soon as he can."

Dragging a hand across his face, Bashar said, "There is more information he should tell your president that he is not aware of right now. Hadar…" he grimaced, "Hadar contacted me just before he was killed and passed on David's latest commands. I suspect that is why he was terminated."

He stared into his coffee as he organized his thoughts. "Director David…to be frank, he's gone mad. I do not know why he has taken the death of Officer Rivkin so personally, but it has…snapped something inside of him and he's ordering things that he never would do under normal circumstances." Rising he started to pace, "He's got to be stopped. Special Agent DiNozzo is in grave danger. David has abandoned his plan to kidnap Agent DiNozzo and place him on trial in Israel. Orders came in overnight to terminate him at any cost. The orders are to do whatever is necessary to accomplish this mission."

Reseating himself, he looked intently at Gibbs, "This order, I do not think his superiors know all of what he has done recently. Or if they do, they're too afraid of him to move against him. Certain members of our government want your President to know that they are not in control of him or what he has ordered. Several are trying to contact these teams through back channels to order them to disregard the last directives from David and return to Israel, but so far we have not had any response."

Fornell said quietly, "Are some of those in your government who could rein David in unwilling to act because he's been blackmailing them?"

Bashan sat back, stunned, speechless. Looking between Fornell and Gibbs, trying to figure out what they knew, he finally said, "How…what do you know about…any blackmail?"

Gibbs leaned back, "We have his files – the material he was using."

"How…" Bashan stammered.

Gibbs only smiled faintly. "So, Eli David is out of control, sending assassins after my Agent, taking care of anyone in their way, and your government is having difficulty stopping him."

Rallying, Bashan nodded, "Yes. And if he finds out you have the blackmail files, there's no telling how far he'll go to get them back." The man sat back and put his head in his hands. "This is madness."

Gibbs rose to his feet, "Is there anything else you can add to how or where these assassins are going to strike?"

With a quiet shake of his head, Bashan told them, "He's severed his ties to the Embassy staff, leaving us in the dark as to what he is doing. We're trying to work around that, but even those at Mossad Headquarters are in turmoil right now. "

Nodding, Gibbs headed to the door, "I'll see if I can reach Director Vance or the Secretary of the Navy. C'mon, Fornell." Over his shoulder he told Bashan, "Let the agent outside the door here know if you need anything. We can probably get you back to the Embassy if you want, though it might be safer to stay here for now."

In MTAC, Gibbs instructed the technicians to reach Vance or Davenport at the White House. His cell buzzed, and he moved off to answer it when he saw the call was from McGee, "Yeah, Gibbs." He listened intently for several seconds before hanging up, already heading for the door. "Shots fired at Bethesda." Pointing at the nearest technician, he barked, "Patch whoever you get first to my cell." Leading Fornell out the door, he ran for the stairs, intent on getting to the hospital before any of his team got hurt.

-000-

Gibbs slammed on the brakes and slid to a stop inches away from a police cruiser. Detouring to the trunk, he tossed a bullet-proof vest to Fornell who was updating Gibbs on what he'd been told by the FBI agents stationed at Bethesda while en route.

"Multiple points of attack. Fires set in the hospital laundry in the basement and outside the ER entrance around the back side of the hospital. Unknown number of shooters stationed in the first floor lobby keeping anyone from leaving or entering; sounds like they're using assault rifles. No one's been able to contact anyone in the security monitoring office for the last half hour. Multiple floors been flooded with tear gas. Elevators out of service. Gunfire on several floors. Casualties reported, including civilians. Damn it, it sounds like a war zone in there." He took several extra clips of ammo from Gibbs, stuffing them into his pockets.

Balboa jogged over to them. Slightly out of breath he nodded to Fornell before reporting to Gibbs. "Last we heard about an hour ago, Tony was out of surgery and doing well. He'd been settled in ICU and was sleeping off the anesthetic when all hell broke loose. Simultaneous attacks on several fronts. Fire Department can't get at the fires until we clear the hospital of hostiles. So far the internal sprinkler system is holding the fire in the laundry at bay. Security office has at least one hostile there monitoring the internal camera system. Multiple teams of hostiles are moving from floor to floor, more often causing panic than actually killing. Several agents, NCIS and FBI, have been wounded. Two killed so far. SWAT's not been able to proceed very far because of the hostiles in the lobby. Booby traps are being found in areas vacated by the Israelis. The Seals have ICU locked down. Patients have been told to stay in their rooms. Radios aren't working – some sort of interference – so coordination is difficult. Power's out on several floors."

Moving towards the command post set up in the garage across from the main entrance, Gibbs asked, "How many teams do we have and where are they?"

"Eight total, mixed NCIS and FBI. ATF is sending a couple more this way - should be here within 30 minutes. LEOs are clearing out the nearby buildings, and helping transport civilians the SWAT team are sending out to a school gym a few blocks away for debriefing. Tactical map is at the command post."

Gibbs asked, "How in hell did these dirtbags get into the hospital?"

Balboa replied, "Unknown." He was frustrated and angry at the answer he was forced to give.

Around them, uniformed and plainclothes cops and agents were moving around, firefighters checking their gear, waiting for the word that the area was clear to start their part. The smell of smoke and tear gas came and went. Shouts were heard from all directions. Approaching sirens howled in the distance. Several fire alarms wailed adding to the noise level.

At the command post, they eased through a small crowd of people working intently on various tasks to an area where maps of the building were taped to cement walls. McGuire appeared and pointed out the last known locations of the teams, and where hostile activities had occurred. Gibbs studied it for a long minute while Fornell watched an agent add more notes to the layout as intel trickled in. McGuire outlined the assignments of the teams preparing to enter the hospital, and the latest the SWAT team had reported as they moved through the first floor.

Gibbs tapped his finger on a service entrance around the corner from the ER entrance with the shooter. "Here. We'll go in here." Tracing a finger along hallways, until he reached a stairway in a secured part of the hospital, he asked McGuire, "Can you find a couple of LEOs with decent shooting skills, and have them take out the surveillance cameras around this entrance?"

"McGee and Abby are in ICU with DiNozzo. See if you can contact McGee on a landline and find out if he can do something about the radio interference. He might have better luck tracking it down from inside the hospital. If he can find the source, maybe we can knock the jammer out. Abby can help."

McGuire nodded. "How many agents do you want with you?"

Gibbs nodded towards Fornell, "Just the two of us. Small and swift. Our goal is to get DiNozzo out of the building. Once he's gone, the Israeli teams will have no reason to stay. Their main target is him."

A sudden loud explosion made all of them duck. Looking out, they could see a section, close to 20 feet across, of the building four stories up had been blown out. Pieces of the debris rained down, causing several people out on the street to run for cover.

Fornell swore. Turning, Gibbs and the others looked toward him. With a finger on the map, he said, "Telecommunications Center. Phones, computer network…."

Another larger explosion, on the far side of the building out of sight, rattled tables and caused people to duck again in reflex. Several seconds later, smoke billowed out from around the corner.

Balboa muttered, "Are they going to demolish the hospital?"

McGuire ran her finger over the map, "I'm thinking that might have been the main electrical room on the second floor, other side of the hospital."

Grabbing a couple of com sets, and heading out of the command post, Gibbs paused to tell Balboa, "Call MTAC – they've been trying to reach Vance or SecNav at the White House. Have them patch the call to your cell rather than mine. Make sure Vance knows of these new developments. And tell him that he needs to talk to Bashan who's waiting for him at Headquarters ASAP." Passing a com set to Fornell, he strapped on the mike and slipped the earwig into his ear. Nothing but static. Hopefully McGee would be able to clear the interference.

Just as he and Fornell reached a corner of the building heading to the entrance they were going to use, a bomb detonated in a locked shelter in the ER parking lot, taking out or damaging the bank of backup generators that had been inside. The concussive wave carrying shrapnel knocked down people running for cover. A large tree close to the source of the explosion cracked in several places and started burning. Vehicles in a large radius around the bomb were destroyed and burned. Windows in buildings facing the blast shattered. Gibbs gritted his teeth in anger so hard he thought they'd crack.

Leading Fornell in a run, they made it to the entrance. Using a small mirror from a pocket in the vest, Gibbs peeked around the corner of the entrance, looking for anything unusual. Crouched down behind a rolling cart, an armed man with an FBI vest and a large bandage wrapped around one leg kept watch down the hallway. Tapping the glass with the barrel of his Sig, Gibbs caught the agent's attention. Opening the heavy glass door just enough to slip through, they joined the Agent behind the cart.

Fornell kept his voice down as he demanded, "Report."

The Agent leaned back against the wall, rolling his shoulders to relief the tension, "No one's been down this hallway in about 20 minutes now. Two men, dark clothes, semi-automatic weapons, radios, crossed this hallway from that passageway about 60 feet along from here." He pointed, indicating the hallway. "They fired off several rounds. I caught a ricochet. My partner is following them – supposed to report in, but the radios are only giving off static."

Gibbs checked the bandage quickly. "It'll hold. Stay here and keep this exit clear."

The Agent nodded, "Will do."

Gibbs and Fornell slipped down the hallway heading for the stairs leading up past the 5th floor ICU, listening intently for any sound that shouldn't be there…


	17. Chapter 17

_**Oh yea reviewers of little faith – things are not always as they seem. **_

_**I'm afraid the weekend hiatus may be a little longer than usual. The filing of the annual IRS report required of non-profit organizations is upon us here, and as anyone who's ever filled out an IRS form can vouch, it's an adventure. I have been valiantly pounding round pegs into mutating demented holes that are bouncing around like slinkies on speed. As soon as I've corralled the little beasties, slotted them into their proper place on said report forms, gleefully spiked them with a sharpened peg to keep them in place, shoved the whole mess into an envelope and entrusted to the postal service for delivery, I can start on the next chapter. I'd rather try and give Ms Cranky a bath. Blindfolded. Ah well. I will be back, soon. I hope.**_

_**Meanwhile, here's the next chapter. Enjoy. I hope!**_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS, just borrowing the characters for a little fun.**_

_**Chapter 17**_

Tony sleepily watched the lights in the ceiling come and go as he was wheeled back to the ICU unit. Two Seals shadowed him warily keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. Brad strode beside the gurney rolling his eyes at the comments Tony was muttering, doped up and loopy. How anyone could think that stains and spots in ceiling tiles could resemble Victoria Secret models clearly wasn't thinking straight.

As they entered the ICU unit and rolled into Tony's room, McGee and Abby appeared, hanging back until the nurses had gotten Tony settled. Ducky and Palmer huddled up with Brad, reviewing the surgical results, and anticipated after care. From what could be overheard, the surgery was a success; Tony should be in much less pain as he healed, and the danger of a punctured lung from the broken ribs was gone.

Abby laughed as Tony started singing garbled lyrics of the Gilligan's Island theme song. Moving to his side, she kissed his cheek and asked him how he was feeling.

"Abby-dabby-do! How are you?" As Brad and Ducky made their way over to his side, he blinked wide-eyed and seriously said, "Whatsup, Doc…er, Docs? Can I have one of those drinks with the little 'brellas?"

Ducky smiled and patted Tony's arm. "We'll see what we can come up with, Anthony, once you're discharged. Which," he said, wagging his finger at the younger man, "will be as soon as tomorrow morning if you behave yourself."

With a broad smile, Tony said, "I promise. Scout's honor." He held up his hand and tried to form a three fingered salute, but the pinky kept wiggling up and down spoiling it. Frowning, Tony concentrated on making his fingers obey.

Patting Tony's shoulder, Ducky said, "You work on that, my dear boy. Meanwhile, since you're doing so well, I think I shall take myself off to the office and catch up on some paperwork. Mr. Palmer, would you be so gracious as to stay here to monitor our friend's recovery?"

With an accommodating nod, Jimmie replied, "Certainly, Dr. Mallard."

After Ducky left, Abby entertained Tony by trying to teach him a few new sign language words. "I never thought I'd see anyone slur words using sign language, Tony." She grinned.

Yawning, Tony's answering smile faded as he dozed off, the pain meds catch up with him finally. Tucking his blanket around him, Abby sat back and started thinking of all the different ways she could kill Ziva without leaving any physical evidence. No one hurt Tony and got away with it!

-000-

Palmer had just returned from a run to the cafeteria for some food, coffee, and a Caf-Pow for Abby, when he noticed a ripple of activity nearby. Several of the Seals grabbed their weapons and headed out the door, grim faced.

Entering Tony's room, Palmer nudged McGee's leg with his. As McGee woke from the light doze he had slipped into, Palmer tipped his head towards the door and whispered, "Something's going on."

Abby sat up and whispered loudly, "What?"

McGee approached the "command post" at the nurse's station, catching the eye of the Seal sitting behind the counter. He heard the man repeating himself as he talked into the command radio set, "Command Central, this is Guard Dog, how do you read?" All he heard was hissing from the receiver.

Looking at McGee, he reported, "Something's blocking our radio transmissions. We've lost contact with central command and the agents in the building."

Opening his cell, McGee noticed the "No Service" message. Flipping the phone shut, he picked up the nearest landline. Silent. Worried now, McGee went back to Tony's room and opened his laptop. Starting several programs, he scowled at the lack of the wireless signal. Checking his Wi-MAX, it was also out of commission. Damn. Plugging a network cable into the room's CAT-5 port, he noted even that was down. Someone was definitely blocking communications. Well, McGee thought, two can play at that game. Sitting down, he started some serious keying into several monitoring programs, staring intently at the screen.

Abby looked over McGee's shoulder, "What's going on, Timmy?" Noticing his trace activities, she pulled her chair up beside him and said, "Who's blocking the connections?"

McGee didn't answer, concentrating intently on the screen, fingers flying over the keyboard.

Abby looked up as people in the central common ICU area started congregating, asking each other what was going on. "Palmer, c'mon. We need to find another laptop so I can help McGee." Looking around the area and only finding terminals, she finally spotted a laptop in the doctor's lounge. Grabbing it, she headed back to Tony's room. Just as she opened the laptop, the power went out.

All over the ward, alarms started sounding from countless medical monitors and equipment. Doctors and nurses scrambled to cover the patients in the most critical condition – those on respirators especially. When the backup generators didn't kick in, staff rushed to start bagging patients on respirators manually until the equipment failed over to battery power.

Tony woke and struggled to sit up at the noise of the alarms. "What's…."

Palmer hurried over to him, planting a hand firmly on his shoulder, keeping him from sitting up. "Don't know yet what's going on Tony. The radios and computer connections are not working, and the power just went out. McGee and Abby are trying to figure out what's happening."

The faint sound of gunfire brought everyone on the floor to a halt, listening. The remaining Seals in the unit fanned out and took pre-arranged positions. One stepped into the room and took up a position where he could see the entrance. Clicking the safety off his weapon, he crouched down.

McGee shook his head as if Gibbs had head-slapped him and started pounding on the keyboard even faster. "Abby, can you tweak the power of your laptop Wi-MAX as far as possible, and match it to this frequency?" He passed a note over to her.

Glancing at it, she said, "Smart, McGee - just at the edge of the usual range." Her fingers flew over her keyboard. After a minute, she said, "I'm ready."

McGee pulled out another cable and connected his cell phone to her laptop. "Let's hope this works." He saw the connection strength indicator on his cell twitch as Abby hit a key on the laptop. After several seconds, the signal twitched again, then settled on a steady but low rate. McGee hit the speed dial button for Gibbs. More gunfire sounded, closer as he waited for a connection.

"Boss! We've got a problem here. Gunfire coming closer. Power's out. Phone service and radio communications are out. Dunno how long this signal will last. Boss? You there? Boss?" Ending the call, McGee told Abby, "Lost him."

Abby gave him a hug, then said in a determined voice, "They're not gonna win this one, McGee. We're gonna find where they have that jammer and we're gonna shut it down." When McGee looked skeptical, she punched him in the arm and said firmly, "Positive thoughts!"

Looking warily at her, McGee said, "Positive thoughts. Let's do it."

Both turned back to their keyboards and started pounding away.

-000-

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Tony looked around groggily, his earlier happy-go-lucky state dampened, "What's happening, McGee?"

Palmer tried to keep him in bed, but Tony refused to be corralled. Glaring at the M.E.'s assistant, he said, "Help me or get out of my way, Palmer."

As he shakily stood, Palmer grabbed his IV bag and transferred it to a mobile IV pole, and moved Tony's good hand to circle it. Not quite hovering, he stayed close enough to catch Tony if he fell.

Slowly moving to McGee, he peered over his shoulder at the screen and in his best Gibbs' voice he snapped out, "McGee, report."

Surprised, McGee whipped around, "What are you doing out of bed, Tony?"

"Smacking you on the head if you don't answer me. What's going on?"

Looking at Tony's expression of alert attention mixed with waves with slow blinking as the drugs in his system still affected him, McGee realized that Tony wouldn't go back to bed until he answered. "Gunshots. Power out. Radios and cell phone signals jammed. Landlines not working. I managed to reach Gibbs briefly, so he knows we're under some sort of attack. The Seals are deployed around the ICU. We're secure for the moment."

Clinging to the IV pole, Tony moved closer to the door. The Seal positioned by the doorway held out his hand, barring Tony from moving any further into the hallway, "Back, Sir. You're not leaving this room."

Tony could see the doctors and nurses moving purposefully around the ward, responding to alarms that were still sounding. There were only a handful of other patients in the ward which helped, he thought.

Brad hurried over to him, "Back in bed, Tony. If you fall and reinjure that shoulder, Gibbs will skin both of us alive."

Tony allowed Brad and Palmer help him back to the bed. He told Palmer, "Find my clothes." As Brad opened his mouth to object, Tony continued, "I won't move from here….for now. But if we're going to be in a gun fight here, I don't want to be hampered by tripping over this damn postage stamp of a gown. And Brad, everyone here who's been trained to fire a gun had better arm themselves."

That stopped Brad cold. He stared at Tony, then slowly nodded. "We don't usually have guns in the hospitals, but when you came in, the security officers brought a few up here along with several clips of ammo, just in case. I'll….I'll get them distributed." With a disbelieving shake of his head, he turned on his heel and made his way out of the room.

Tony looked sternly at Palmer. Bewildered, Jimmy opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, when he remembered Tony's clothes. He ran over to a locker in the corner of the room and pulled out the street clothes Tony had worn this morning.

Even though Tony had help, by the time he was dressed, he was sweating lightly and lightheaded from the pain. Palmer fastened the sling holding Tony's left arm securely, tugging the straps snug. Sagging, Tony nodded his thanks to Jimmy. Pulling his Sig out of its holster, he checked the ammo magazine and verified there was a round in the chamber. He stuffed the two extra clips he'd brought with him into his pockets. Unable to bend down yet without nearly face-planting, he asked Palmer to fasten his backup to his ankle.

Satisfied that he was as ready as he could be, he allowed Jimmie to reconnect the IV and start it running again. Knowing Tony wouldn't take any of the usual pain-killers prescribed for post-surgery care, he convinced Brad to switch Tony to prescription strength ibuprofen. Tony swallowed the pills down with a grateful nod to Jimmie.

"Any luck, McGee?"

"Not yet, Boss, er, Tony." Tony could see McGee kicking himself at his slip of the tongue, and grinned.

Abby piped up, "If we could walk around, I'm sure we could locate it easily, but that ain't gonna happen."

The gunfire sounded closer, and for the first time, there was return fire, probably by the Seals. Damn it, he needed intelligence if he was going to have to keep everyone safe. With an effort, he struggled to his feet, IV pole in hand, and moved towards the door. The Seal guarding the room stepped in front of him, "Can't go out there, Sir."

Palmer hovered next to Tony, ready to steady him if needed.

Tony sighed, "What's your name?"

"Walker, Sir. Johnnie Walker."

Tony tried to keep from laughing, "You're kidding, right?"

Raising an eyebrow, Walker stared at him. "Sir?"

"Ok. Sorry. It's Tony, not Sir."

The Seal nodded, then replied, "DB."

"DB?"

"Double Black….Label."

Tony slowly smiled. "DB it is."

The man returned a quick grin before turning back to monitor the outer area.

Leaning against the back of McGee's chair, Tony asked, "Can you give me a rundown on the condition and situation, DB?"

Without stopping his continuous scan, DB said, "Area is in lockdown mode, no one in or out. Other Seals deployed in and around this area. Incomplete report on the status outside this area was received before all communications were cut off. Power failure followed. Several areas of the hospital reported armed intruders, dark fatigues, no insignias, automatic weapons, handguns. Report of two incidents of what appeared to be flash bang booby-traps set off. Tear gas reported on several floors. We're holding the fort until the cowboys show up."

"How many here are armed?"

"Not certain. A runner should be around soon to update us on conditions in ICU and any changes in orders."

"Ok," Tony said while wiping his forehead with his sleeve to dry the light sweat.

Knowing Tony wouldn't go back to bed unless he was drugged into unconsciousness; Jimmy moved a chair up behind Tony and pulled him back down into it. "Sit."

As he more fell than eased down, Tony poked McGee in the ribs, "Whatcha got, McGee?"

Blinking as his concentration was broken, McGee looked at Tony, surprised, "What are you doing out of bed?"

"Report, McIrrelevant."

A loud explosion rocked the room, knocking loose items off countertops, and causing several to drop to the floor.

Abby whispered as seconds passed and nothing further happened, "What was that?"

DB said grimly, "A message. The hostiles are upping the ante."

As the staff slowly rose and resumed their duties, nervously glancing around as they did so, Brad came into the room. "What are you doing out of bed, Tony?"

"My job. What's the situation out there, Brad?"

"We'd transported several patients to other hospitals before this all started, so it isn't as bad as it could be as far as patients go. We have sufficient supplies to get through for several hours, though the batteries for the respirators especially won't last that long. We'll end up having to bag some of these patients by hand if this drags on."

"How many staff are armed?"

"Nine. All military, and trained. All are fair marksmen, but they're not warriors, Tony."

"Nine, plus the Seals, McGee, and myself. Ok." he stopped, thinking. "How many entrances to this area?"

"Three. The main entrance," Brad pointed down the hallway to the heavy doors at the end of the corridor. "The patient and staff entrance leading to the elevators that ends at the ER department," he pointed to a set of heavy double doors on the other side of the nurses' station. "And the back entrance which lets out into a few rooms, staff crib, supply room, pharmacy room, and a service stairway that goes from the lower parking floors to the top floor."

"What about HVAC system access points, maintenance crawlspaces, things like that?"

Brad looked blank. "No idea."

DB spoke up, "HVAC system is self contained; three vent systems to the roof, each with independent intake and discharge vents. We have…had cc monitors to keep a visual eye on them. Incoming vents have had filtering added to them recently to remove radioactive or chemical contaminants. Outgoing vents are run through a simple but effective filter system to trap and remove biological contaminants. We've added a monitor to each vent to alert us if anything unusual is detected. Maintenance crawlspaces have been closed off."

He continued, "The service stairway has been booby-trapped to alert us to any intruders, and there are two Seals stationed in the stairway. The door is locked and alarmed. The entrance to the staff entrance has been sealed and booby-trapped. Two Seals stationed there. The main entrance is alarmed and locked. Two Seals are deployed guarding that entrance."

"So," Tony added, "that leaves you and…the Commander to cover the internal areas?"

"Yeah."

"Plan of action if attacked?"

DB pointed with his chin, "Here's the Commander. You can ask him yourself."

Another loud explosion went off. People staggered to keep on their feet, ceiling tiles jumped and a few ended up cockeyed in their frames or came down. A light dust clouded the air, swirling. And over it all, alarms blared loudly.

Gunfire erupted close by the main entrance, and the Seals guarding the entrance economically returned fire as targets expose themselves.

DiNozzo let go of the bed rails he'd grabbed to steady himself and placed a reassuring hand on Palmer's shoulder as Jimmy looked around, silent, wide-eyed, and frightened. McGee pulled Abby close for a hug, her mascara running down her face as tears ran. Meeting McGee's eyes, they both knew that time was running out. If multiple Kidon units were attacking, how long might it take before they managed to breach the ICU unit?

Tony, dusting off his clothes one-handedly commented drily, "I suppose this means lunch will be delayed, which, considering we're in a hospital, might actually be a good thing."

One of the Seals who'd been covering the main entrance to the ICU unit slipped back to talk with Bodin. "Chief, those shots are keeping us pinned down, but they're not aiming to take any of us out. Either they're the worst shots in the Israeli army, or they've got something else on their minds other than breaching the ICU…."


	18. Chapter 18

_**Unexpected offers of help at Bethesda – sounds good, but is it legit or not? Thank you to everyone reviewing or sending PMs. Crazy forms are finally completed. Just need to catch my breath now and get back into the groove. Not my best chapter, but hopefully it'll satisfy enough to tide everyone over for the moment. **_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS, just borrowing the characters for a little fun.**_

Chapter 18

Fornell swore as he got to his feet, dusting off his pants. "Dammit Gibbs, how many of these things are we going to run across?"

Coughing, Gibbs just looked at Fornell, brushing debris from his hair, and turned to continue down the hallway towards the next doorway on the left. So far the two men had found out the hard way that anything they came across – carts, chart racks, waste receptacles – anything that was small enough to wedge a flash-bang grenade into was suspect.

Twice now, they'd stumbled across tear gas canisters triggered by thin tripwires across doorways. The first they discovered the hard way, and ended up in a restroom rinsing their eyes repeatedly for many minutes before they could see again without pain. Even now, their eyes were still red and irritated. The second canister Gibbs spotted and disarmed, then tucked the canister into a pocket for possible future use.

It'd been an hour now since they'd entered the hospital in an attempt to reach the ICU ward where Tony and his guards were barricaded. Several times they'd crossed paths with hostiles that had managed to slip away before they could be shot or captured. They'd come across a handful of NCIS and FBI agents, some of whom had been involved in skirmishes that'd resulted in injuries. Most had been patched up enough to be functional by medical personnel who they in turn gathered into rooms and guarded from new attacks.

The sporadic sound of gunfire distant and near occurred often enough to leave them very cautious as they moved forward. Tear gas pockets wafted lightly in some corridors, bringing to mind Halloween haunted houses when combined with debris littering the hallways, the light from the red or green Exit signs, and the shadows cast by the emergency battery powered lights that flickered if they were still operational.

Occasionally, quiet sobs were heard nearby, hushed shushes, quick breathing from patients and or staff who had taken refuge in various alcoves or rooms. On several occasions, they'd come across a uniformed Marine or Navy person, armed with whatever they could find standing guard before small groups of civilians, and more than one doctor or nurse determinedly standing between an open entryway and a patient or two, unarmed, yet clearly still willing to stop anyone trying to hurt their charges. Once they realized that Gibbs and Fornell were the good guys, they provided quick updates to the agents.

Fornell carefully opened the third floor door to the service stairway a crack to check for hostiles. Every attempt since they're reached the third floor had been met with gunfire. Sure enough, as soon as the door was open enough to peer through, two gunshots cracked and slammed into the door. Fornell jerked back, letting it slam shut. With a disgusted grunt, he fell back to lean against the wall. "We're never going to get through that way."

A low "Special Agent Gibbs" called from down the hallway, as if the speaker was trying to avoid attracting more attention than necessary. Scrambling to take cover behind a large cart, Fornell and Gibbs exchanged glances before Gibbs replied, "Who wants to know."

The male voice replied softly, "Someone who can help you, and someone who needs your help. My name is Daniel Medad, and I am a Mossad Kidon team leader. I was a good friend of Amit Hadar. May I approach, disarmed, to talk with you?"

Gibbs exchanged glances with Fornell. "Why would I want to talk with you?"

"Please, Special Agent Gibbs. I am not your enemy. Time is short if lives are to be saved."

Fornell shrugged at Gibbs inquiring look. "We're going to have to go through them to move on with the stairway impassable. Might as well see what he wants."

Raising his voice enough for Medad to hear, Gibbs ordered the Mossad operative, "Slide your weapons out into the hallway, then come out, hands raised."

To the surprise of the two agents, a Tavor assault rifle slid out, followed by a Jericho side arm. Several knives joined the weapons. A man, his plain looks belying his lethality, emerged, hands raised. He slowly moved towards them before stopping ten feet away. "Special Agent Gibbs?"

Fornell remained behind the cart, his Sig pointed directly at the man's chest, ready to fire if needed. Gibbs rose and stepped out from behind the cart, "Talk."

The man nodded once, then spoke, waving his hand back down the hallway, "We are not here to kill or injure Special Agent DiNozzo, or any of the people in this hospital. We have come here to stop those who are." An expression of worry flashed across his face, "There a small group of Mossad and Kidon operatives who have long aligned themselves with Eli David, holding similar political ideology and goals. Their de facto leader is a self-declared protégé of Director David – Deputy Director Ilan Bodnar. They are all fanatically loyal to David. When the Director ordered Agent DiNozzo kidnapped or killed, they responded. They will do anything to succeed, including actions that no civilized person would condone….such as an assault on a major hospital."

Grimacing, he continued, "Mossad knows war and terrorism, and must make ruthless decisions at times to protect our country, but we are not insane, out of control killers. This….obsession that Director David has against your agent is madness. I don't know if it's been publically announced here yet, but our government is working hard now to stop this craziness before something catastrophic happens. Hadar was sent to help stop those who follow Bodnar, though when he was sent, to protect those still working back in Israel, he was told to represent himself as coming here on his own. It was a bitter blow to learn he'd been murdered. His last action was a call to us warning of the attack on this hospital. Those of us already here in the DC area have come here to try and stop this assault."

Finishing his explanation of why he and his fellow operatives were there, he ended with a plea, "Agent Gibbs, we wish to help end this. We _need_ to help end this. Please let us work with you and your agents to end this."

Gibbs studied him, silent for a long moment. This man had provided no hard evidence to prove his tale was true or false, but his gut was telling him this person was being honest with him. Hearing gunfire again, he knew that help from those who had the same training and experience as those after DiNozzo would be invaluable in keeping casualties to a minimum.

"How would you end this?"

At his question, Fornell stared at Gibbs, surprised. Was he serious?

Medad answered promptly, "The jammer has to be disabled to allow for coordination. Then a secured escape route needs to be created to get Agent DiNozzo out of this building. Once it is know that he is no longer here, those hunting him will pursue, thus leave here."

The Kidon agent turned to the wall and pulled out a grease pen, proceeding to draw out a simple map of the hospital layout. "The goal of those after your agent is to execute an escalating plan of destruction that will happen if your agent isn't turned over to them. They count on the increasing scale of destruction to force him to surrender. His dossier indicates he would readily sacrifice himself to save others, and they are counting on that."

Medad pointed at locations on his impromptu map. "The major actions so far were staged to appear very destructive, but are not yet. The bombs were set to destroy the outside walls, but leave the interiors undamaged. And the initial booby-traps have been non-lethal: tear-gas and flash bangs. But, if they don't convince Agent DiNozzo to surrender, they will do what is needed to force him out into the open."

Pointing at a location on the floor below on the map, he said, "The jammer is here. We need to take that out – communications between all of us is critical if we are to effectively stop the invaders, and to keep us from accidentally killing or wounding each other."

"I have my team with me. I want to send two to take this jammer out while the rest help clear and hold a safe path to the ICU unit. We've scouted the area around the main ICU entrance and there are several of Bodnar's men positioned there putting pressure on those inside with a steady barrage of gunfire. Their goal at this moment is to convince those within that they have no safe way out, and to encourage them to waste ammunition returning fire. Very soon they will make their demands to DiNozzo to surrender. They will add grenades to the mix to increase the damage and threat. We need to get into ICU before that happens or risk Agent DiNozzo surrendering. "

As if hearing his words, shots from the cross-corridor further down the hallway began, targeting them. As they dove for cover, return fire started from the room that Medad's team had holed up in. The cart the three men were sheltering behind was slowly coming apart from the damage inflicted by the impact of rounds. Gibbs pointed to an open doorway a dozen feet further along, "Head for that. I'll lay down cover."

As he rose and started firing, Medad and Fornell sprinted for the door. Just as they cleared the doorway, a ricochet off the stairwell fire door caught Gibbs, and he let out an involuntary yelp. Fornell called out, alarmed, "Gibbs? Gibbs! Are you ok?" No response. "Gibbs?"


	19. Chapter 19

_**Sorry for the delay in posting. One of the cats – a sweet diabetic boy - decided today was a good day to get sick and needed serious paw holding. Love and appreciate all the reviews! Hopefully, the next chapter will be posted more timely. I'd love to send wonderful chocolate kisses out for the great reviews, but they all vanished. I swear the bowl was full this morning! I can't imagine where they all went….**_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS, just borrowing the characters for a little fun.**_

Chapter 19

In the end, it took a nearly an hour to make their way to the service entrance of the ICU. Without the extra eyes and ability to scout out multiple possible paths simultaneously that Medad's Kidon provided, it would have taken much longer to get this far. The jammer still hadn't been taken out, and the small group had to detour frequently to safely skirt several suspicious areas. The only place they hadn't been able to avoid a direct confrontation had been just outside the stairway landing to the fifth floor. The skirmish there had been short and deadly. The Kidon who'd bottlenecked the stairway were dead, sprawled half way down the stairs.

Gibbs kicked over a large backpack and a carry-all belonging to the dead Kidon before carefully tugging their openings aside far enough to view what was inside each - ammo, handguns, more flash-bang and tear gas grenades, wire, electrician tape, and other various tools. The backpack had four blocks of C4 nestled in a smaller case within.

He shoved both bags towards Fornell, not wanting to use his injured hand to pick them up. The ricochet had hit his Sig, fragmenting it, breaking it apart in his hand. The deep cut on his outer palm where a fragment of the Sig had gouged him deeply didn't need the extra weight. He'd been lucky the rest of the fragments had hit his vest. The shock left him stunned for several seconds before he mentally head-slapped himself and got back into the game.

Gibbs opened the stairwell door to the fifth floor a couple of inches and carefully looked over the area. The hallway led straight to the back entrance of the ICU unit which was closed. The door was pockmarked with dozens of bullet holes, and the glass in the small portal window of the door was shattered.

To one side of the door was a barricade of overturned heavy duty metal carts and clutter, reinforced with a braced panel of armored shielding. Gibbs knew there was a Seal stationed behind the barrier patiently waiting for a clear shot.

Leaning back against the stairwell wall, Gibbs called out, "Guard Dog, this is Command."

No response.

Gibbs nodded in satisfaction, before trying again, "Guard Dog, this is Cougar One."

After a pause, the response came back, "Cougar One, this is Guard Dog. Who's in charge?"

Gibbs replied, "Who's where?"

"On first base. Who's on second?"

"What is," Gibbs answered.

"Show yourself, Cougar One. No weapons."

Gibbs handed Fornell his backup, and pushed the door open, moving to stand in the hallway, hands up and outstretched.

Moving to stand under the closest emergency light, showing his face clearly, Gibbs paused for several seconds, before approaching the barricade. He halted as he reached it and waited for the final challenge and response.

"Who's on third?"

"I don't know."

The Seal let out a trilling whistle, which resulted in the door into the ICU opening. Gibbs turned and motioned for the others to approach. A second Seal appeared, "Gibbs, good to see you."

As Fornell passed, he looked askance at Gibbs, "Who's on first, Jethro? Really?"

Gibbs smirked, pushing Fornell through the door. In spite of all the trouble it'd been to make it this far, he was relieved he'd shortly be able to put eyes on DiNozzo.

Entering, they looked around, assessing the situation. The Commander made his way to them, "Gibbs, how are things going out there. We've been without contact for too long."

"Commander," Gibbs acknowledge the man. "DiNozzo?"

With a wry grin, Bodin said, "Man's something else. He's got a pool going on tomorrow's football game, organized a sculpting contest using hospital food, and started a one-upmanship dirtbag slogan wall in the staff bathroom. Not to mention trying to standing guard even as he lists to one side."

Gibbs snorted, "Sounds about right." He pointed at Fornell, "Tobias will fill you in, and introduce the rest of these people." Without waiting for Fornell to agree, he headed off toward DiNozzo's room, hearing him before he saw him. Slipping in unseen as Tony tried to talk his way by Abby and Brad, he gave his Agent a head-slap.

Staggering as he turned too quickly, Tony grinned, "Hey, boss. Knew you'd show up sooner than later. How was the trip?"

Pointing at the bed, Gibbs growled at him, "Now."

Too exhausted to register Gibbs' mood, Tony smiled at him, "We're leaving? Now?"

"Get. Into. That. Bed."

Gulping Tony backed away from Gibbs and sat down on the bed. Under his breath, he grumbled, "Grumpy boss."

Turning to Brad, Gibbs noted he was armed. Looking around, he quickly realized several of the staff were also armed with handguns. He raised an eyebrow inquiringly tipping his head towards DiNozzo.

Brad shrugged. "You're the only one who knows where his off switch is. Even Abby couldn't keep him corralled."

Scowling, Gibbs moved to the bed, and pushed Tony back until he was lying down, pulled the covers up, and held a finger in his face, "Brad is going to bring you your pain meds and you will take them. You get out of that bed before he says you can and I'll break your other shoulder."

Scowling, Tony stared at him. "I'm…"

"If the next word out of your mouth is 'fine' you'll be riding a desk for the rest of the year."

Blinking, Tony sat back with a huff. "Fine, I'll stay in bed like a good little patient." he said, eying Gibbs, daring him to call him on his reply.

One side of Gibbs' mouth quirking upward just a fraction before he asked Brad, "He ok?"

Laughing, Brad said, "He will be. Pain meds coming up."

Fornell appeared, "DiNutzo. Glad to see you're in one piece still."

Sulking, Tony asked, "So, what's going on out in the big wide world? Our favorite Mossad Director have a change of heart yet?"

With a snort of derision, Fornell replied, "He's gone over the hill and around the bend. Guy's certifiably insane."

Growing serious, Tony asked, "What's been happening? Explosions, gunfire, fire alarms, no communications with our teams…," Tony swallowed, looking haunted for a second, "We have to get out of this hospital before anyone is hurt or killed." Looking sharply at Fornell who'd winced, then Gibbs, he amended his statement, guilt washing through him, "Before anyone else is hurt or killed." Dead serious, he waited for a reply.

Abby bit her lip and moved to his side, giving him a hug. Tony hugged her back, but his expression didn't change. "Well?"

Brad returned and held out three tablets and a paper cup of water to Tony. "Acetaminophen."

Raising his eyebrows, Tony said, "Really?"

"I know you're going to be involved in whatever Gibbs has in mind, no matter what. Better you're as functional as possible – you'll damage whatever you're gonna bang up less than if you're loopy." Looking at Gibbs, he shrugged. "Don't fight it, Gibbs - might as well keep him where we can see him."

Nodding, Brad turned back to Tony, holding the pills out to him again. Taking them, Tony stared at Gibbs ruefully. As he handed the empty cup back to Brad, he asked, "So, it's been a while since we've heard from anyone - far longer than SWAT usually takes to clear a building."

Brad pointed to a chair next to the bed and told Gibb, "Sit." He set a suture kit on the over-bed rolling table, "Let me see what you've done to your hand."

Ignoring him, Gibbs asked McGee, "You got anything to report?"

"Abby and I had been trying to break through the jamming signal without luck, boss. The laptop batteries are dead now, so we're out of luck until the power is restored."

Gibbs beckoned Bodin into the room. "Report."

"We secured this area when the gunfire started, and no one's been able to breech it so far. Several probes have been made, no attack in force yet, but they're working up to it. They need to do something soon if they hope to succeed before reinforcements arrive and threaten their rear."

Gibbs nodded, and rubbed his face with a weary hand. "Rogue Kidon operatives are behind this attack, loyal to Eli David. Since they not sure if they'll be able to make an escape from the hospital, I don't think they're first objective now is to capture DiNozzo. I think they are just looking for an opportunity to kill him. Or force one. More casualties, more pressure on DiNozzo to surrender. "

"Where's the support from outside? SWAT? Marines?"

Gibbs shook his head, "No idea what's taking them so long. SWAT was clearing the first floor when we started up from a service entrance. That was…." He looked at his watch, but Fornell said, "two hours ago."

Fornell added, "There was a sniper targeting anyone in the lobby – maybe they haven't been able to take him out yet." He continued, frustrated, "How'd they infiltrate the hospital?" Scowling darkly he promised, "Heads will roll for that."

Gibbs motioned to a man standing outside the door to enter. "Daniel Medad, Kidon team leader."

The man, unremarkable and unassuming, nodded to those present, "Special Agent DiNozzo. I am sorry for everything you've had to go through because of some of my fellow officers undisciplined and unprofessional behavior. There is no excuse for what has happened."

Tony nodded and forced himself to respond calmly, "Thank you. "

Medad looked to Gibbs, "We need to go as soon as possible. May I offer a few suggestions?"

Gibbs nodded, drawing Bodin and his second into the discussion. Brad pointed to the chair and told Gibbs, "Sit. And don't argue." As Bodin and Medad quickly sorted out a plan for the trip outbound, Brad cleaned and stitched up the deep gash in Gibbs' hand. Satisfied, he finished with "Dry and clean. You know the drill."

Bodin slipped out to brief his team, and Medad huddled with Brad and Gibbs. "We cannot take all the patients and staff here. The sooner Agent DiNozzo leaves, the safer and less of a target you and your charges here will be. If those outside manage to enter, I strongly recommend that no one here resists. Hide the weapons you have."

Returning, Bodin addressed Gibbs, "We will be ready to leave in a couple of minutes. Gibbs, I suggest that Agents Fornell and McGee remain here with Ms. Sciuto and the majority of Medad's Kidon unit to provide protection after we leave. The rest of Medad's team will scout ahead, while my team provides close-in protection. We go straight for the back stairway and don't…."

The lights flickered briefly and came on, interrupting him. Equipment powered on all over the ICU, filling the air with beeps and various alarm noises. Gibbs' and Bodin's cells both started ringing. McGee rose and looked around. "Looks like someone finally took the jammer out."

Within seconds, a gun battle started in the hallway outside the ICU main entrance. They looked at each other, understanding that the final push to take ICU has started. Gibbs pulled Tony up from where he'd been struggling to rise, and held him tight as he wavered. Gibbs shouted at McGee and Fornell, "Stay! Protect Abby and the staff." He dragged DiNozzo along, heading for the back stairway.

_A/N: bonus karma points for the first person who can identify the source of the challenge and response dialog…_


	20. Chapter 20

_**Karma points for all those who knew of "Who's On First" - a deliciously funny comedy skit performed by Abbott and Costello. And now on with the story. There will be two more chapters and an epilogue to finish things off. Great reviews – thank you! And to those offering constructive criticisms, thank you also – you're making learning new creative writing tips, tricks, and skills fun. For those who aren't enjoying the story, er…why are you still reading it? Life's too short to waste on stuff you don't like! All booboos are my bad. **_

_**Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS, just borrowing the characters for a little fun.**_

Chapter 20

Control chaos took over the ICU. Kidon members paired up with Seals who swiftly executed well-practiced actions, moving as a disciplined organized unit to meet the attack. Brad was directing his staff to move the patients to more secured areas. Bodin found himself in an intense discussion over the tactical radio net with Command.

New gunfire sounded from the service entrance. Gibbs would bet the farm that the staff entrance was similarly under attack. DiNozzo dragged him to a standstill, "Gibbs, stop. This isn't solving anything. I will not be responsible for the death of one more person. Not when I can prevent it." He tried to twist from the Marine's iron grip.

Facing him, Gibbs glared hard, "You're not going to turn yourself over to them. This hospital is surrounded by law enforcement and they have no way out. Whether they decide to surrender or suicide by cop in the end, they're not going to let you live."

"If it stops this madness, if it saves even one other person…."

Gibbs replied in one implacable monosyllable, "No."

"Not your decision."

The two men stood, silent, neither budging so much as a fraction.

Seconds passed.

Bodin broke the impasse, "Change of plan. C'mon." He caught the eye of the Kidon team leader and beckoned him closer. "Command is 'pulling the trigger' on a plan they staged ready to go in response to an all out assault in the hospital. They've been waiting until communications had been restored before executing it since they had no intel on what was happening in the hospital. The efforts made so far to infiltrate the building have been hampered by well-placed snipers and booby-traps.

"One squad of Marines has been inserted on the roof, and is moving into place to attack all three exits from the rear. One fireteam is rappelling over the side of the roof and will make entrance through a window on the far side of this floor and heading for the main ICU entrance. The other two are advancing down the stairwells to the service and staff entrances.

"The SWAT team is keeping the sniper in the main lobby pinned down. Teams of FBI and NCIS agents have made their way to the power and telecommunications rooms, and are still attempting entry into the security office. We've disabled the security cameras in ICU to keep whoever might be monitoring them in the dark.

"Another Marine squad is making their way to the basement to work on the fire in the laundry facility. Other teams are finally beginning to make progress in clearing the second floor. They'll advance up as fast as they can.

"Right now, we're to stay put and hold the fort until the fireteams are in place. We'll receive further orders then. Medad, make sure your team stays within the ICU or they'll be targeted as hostiles."

The man agreed, then added, "If there is a tactical frequency that isn't in use, I can pass on information to your command center on what they might expect from the rogue Kidon agents, how to disarm the booby-traps…"

Bodin called out to a passing Seal, "Jammer, set Medad up on a channel with McGuire." He finished by pointing Gibbs and Tony back to the room Tony had been in, "Might as well settle back down. No telling how long this will take."

He was summoned by one of his men who was heading to a window behind the nurse's station. As they made their way there, a rappel line fell past the window, and a Marine in battle gear slid down into view outside. The man raised his free arm and made a large sweeping circle while pressing something to the glass. As Bodin and his man reached the glass, the Marine hit the center of the circle a smart blow with the heel of his hand. A popping sound came from the glass and the interior circle moved inward slightly as it cleanly broke along the circle's edge. A steady push from the outside shoved the circle of glass the rest of the way into the room where the two Seals eased it down and out of the way.

The Marine grinned and gave a smart salute, asking, "Corporal Lerner, Sir. Permission to enter."

Holding out a hand to pull him into the room, Bodin replied with an answering grin, "Granted. Now get in here, Marine."

Within a few minutes, a squad of Marines had joined them, and had been stationed at the entrances, reinforcing those already there. The radio traffic had increased as the soldiers reached their positions on the far side of the hostiles, and the final effort to force them to surrender began. The firefight ramped up until it sounded like a battlefield.

Bodin stepped into Tony's room and closed the door, muting some of the sound. "The Marines are able and willing to rappel to the ground with your people, Gibbs. Your call to go or wait until this ends."

Gibbs rose, "We go. The sooner we get out of here, the sooner those out there may surrender."

Fornell looked at Bodin, "You gotta be kidding, right?" Turning to Gibbs he said, "You're gonna go crawl out a fifth story window and slide down a skinny little rope to the ground?"

Gibbs had a glint of amusement in his eyes as he asked Fornell, "What's your problem, Tobias? You trained on rappelling at FLETC, right?"

Scowling at him, Fornell responded, "Yeah, well it's been a while since then. And I'm older now. Wiser. Smarter."

A full blown grin spread across Gibbs' face as he said, "You afraid, Fornell?"

Torn between wanting to smack that smile off his friend's face, and admitting he'd just as soon wait, Fornell just stared at him.

Tony whispered to McGee, "Ten says he'll chicken out."

McGee shook his head, "Nah, twenty says he won't let Gibbs do something he can't."

Fornell stared at them, his scowl even deeper, "You two stay out of this!"

Abby leaned forward, "Fifty that he'll go before Gibbs."

Transferring his stare to her, Fornell snapped, "Damn right I will. He'll never let me live it down otherwise."

Gibbs laughed, as a touch of consternation crossed Fornell's face as he realized what he'd just said. "C'mon, all of you. Let's get out of here and let these people do their job."

Palmer, looking uneasy, spoke from the corner where he'd been staying out of the way, "Uh…I'm not sure I can do the…the…" His face turned red and he stammered to a stop as Gibbs faced him.

"You'll do fine, Palmer."

"Maybe….maybe I should wait here, help out with the patients."

Gibbs just crooked a finger and beckoned him to follow. Without further words, he headed out of the room. When Palmer looked like he'd be sick, McGee leaned over, "Don't worry, Palmer. I'm gonna have my eyes shut tight. I'm terrified of heights, but there are worse things than that out there."

Wide-eyed, Palmer asked in a high squeaky voice, "Yeah? Like what?"

Nodding out the door, McGee said, "Dealing with Gibbs after not doing what he wants."

Palmer thought about it for a second then slumped, "Yeah." He joined McGee as they moved out of the room, wondering if he could borrow a surgical mask and fasten it over his eyes….

Twenty minutes later, all of them were in a SUV heading back to the Yard, Fornell looking smug, Abby flushed and excited, McGee green, Palmer white as a ghost, and Tony tired and drained. Looking back at the hospital, he could still hear the gunfire, see smoke rising, uniformed LEOs and soldiers moving purposefully around the hospital grounds.

It felt surreal to him as he realized that it was only early afternoon, and just a few hours ago he'd been in surgery. What felt like days of battle had happened in only a few short hours. It was like some unreal, wicked dream. He should have agreed to return to Israel. He might have been able to beat the charges. And if not, his life balanced against all those who'd been caught up in this craziness…it wasn't a hard choice to make.

He felt Gibbs eyes on him, and knew what his boss was thinking. Knowing he'd lose the argument with Gibbs, he just closed his eyes and zoned out, leaving that conversation for later.

-000-

Vance and Bashan were waiting in the bull pen when Fornell, Gibbs, and Tony entered. Vance looked them over as they took their seats. "Bad few days. You're all off rotation for two weeks to give you time to rest and recover. Agent DiNozzo, if you've been cleared by Dr Mallard at the end of the two weeks, you can resume light duty until you're cleared for field work."

Bashan spoke, looking worn, "The Kidon at the hospital who are loyal to Director David are refusing to lay down their arms. They have been warned of the consequences, and have chosen to ignore them. They will not leave the hospital alive." His expression was tired and sad.

Subdued, he continued, "We have identified the Kidon operatives who traveled here to do you and your friends and colleagues harm, Special Agent DiNozzo. All but one are at the hospital. The remaining one has fled the United States, but we are following him and he should be dealt with shortly. Our government apologizes again for the trouble this has caused all of you.

"The hunt for Eli David continues. It appears as if he might have managed to leave the Israel. There's an international dragnet looking for him. Whatever else happens to him, he'll never hold a government job again in Israel."

Tony stirred, and in a tired voice asked, "Didn't any of those Kidon officers question what they were told to do? How could they think it was ok to terrorize a hospital of all places? And what of all those who've been injured or killed because of Eli David? Who is going to look into the eyes of their loved ones, their children, and tell them what happened, that they suffered because of a madman your government failed to deal with? Who's going to apologize to them? Who will answer for the crimes of murder? Who will take responsibility for the damage to the hospital, the disruption of services?

Vance looked at DiNozzo's exhausted face and slumped posture, "Eli David has a lot to answer for, but ultimately, it'll be the Israeli government. This happened on their watch." He wondering how long it'd be before DiNozzo finally caved in and rested. Glancing at Gibbs, he noted the team leader was also watching DiNozzo.

Bashan stepped up and offered his hand to Gibbs, then to DiNozzo. "I will take my leave now. I am being recalled to Israel to help deal with the aftermath of Eli David's mess. There's much more going on that Eli was involved in, most of it a result of his own initiative. The information Agent McGee unearthed was invaluable in helping your President understand the scope of David's danger to the world, and getting our Prime Minister's attention. Once he realized what was happening, he got things moving quickly." He grimaced, "So much of what Eli David did was behind the scenes, out of sight, and out of the minds of those who should have been watching him." He quietly left eyes troubled.

"How long before we can roll up the protection detail for DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked Vance.

"Not until we have confirmation that those at the hospital are accounted for, and the one who is on the run has been dealt with."

Fornell rose and said, "I need to head to the office. I'll check in with your later, Jethro." He nodded to Vance, "Director." Pulling out his cell, he started making calls as he left.

Tony suppressed a rage building inside him at everything that'd happened. He knew there wasn't anything he could do to make all of the last few days undo themselves, to fix all that went wrong with so many lives. He picked up the coffee mug on his desk and threw it as hard as he could at the window near his desk where it shattered with a loud bang. Burying his head in his hands, he tried to calm himself down.

Realizing that DiNozzo had finally reached his breaking point, Vance said, "Take care of your boy, Gibbs. He needs to rest."

Gibbs pulled Tony up and walked him down to autopsy. Ducky was absent, but Palmer looked up as they entered. Pushing Tony down into a chair, he pulled open the bottom drawer of Ducky's desk and pulled out the bottle of scotch. After a look at Tony's face, Palmer moved off to give the two men some privacy. Filling one of the glasses from drawer with an inch of the fine scotch, Gibbs pressed it into Tony's hand, "Drink."

Swallowing the drink down in a couple of gulps, Tony sat with his eyes closed for a long minute. Finally he took a deep breath and seemed to relax a little. "Sorry, boss."

Gibbs propped himself on the edge of Ducky's desk, "Nothing to be sorry for, Tony," he said in a quiet tone. "It's been a rough few days."

"Why? Why did all of this happen?" Tony asked, beyond tired now.

"Greed. Pride. Arrogance."

"Politics." Tony shook his head, disgusted. "It reeks of politics. None of those responsible will be held accountable."

Gibbs shook his head fractionally, "Sounds like Eli won't be so lucky. Not only has he been removed from his position, but he has everyone out for his hide. Only a question of time before he gets picked up."

"Lot of good that'll be to those in the hospital who won't be coming home." Tony rubbed at his eyes, mumbling in frustrated loathing. Looking up, he said, "Need to find out what's going on at the hospital."

"The only thing you need right now is rest." Pulling out his cell, Gibbs called the security office. "Any of those Seals around, Henry?" Listening for several seconds to the response, he replied, "Send them to the parking garage." He hung up.

"Palmer, have Ducky stop by my place on his way home. Have him check you out, then you're off for two weeks. Get some rest." Gibbs stood up and headed for the door. "With me, DiNozzo."

Stopping in Abby's lab, a freshly Caf-Pow-OD'd Abby latched onto Tony in a fierce hug, just missing his bad shoulder. "Tony! You doing ok? Tell me you're ok! I don't know anyone who can get into as much trouble as you can. Bad guys, assassins and foreign spies, crazy gun battles, escaping out windows, sliding down ropes - it's just like one of Bond's movies! You could…"

Gibbs finally got Abby's attention and she looked at him with surprise over Tony's shoulder, still wrapped tightly around him in a hug. "He's gotta breath, Abby."

"Oh, right." She released Tony and stepped back. "Sorry, Tony. I'm just so worried, and you…"

Looking past Abby to a lab table with several large empty Caf-Pow cups, he raised an eyebrow at McGee who was looking as tired as he felt. He asked silently, "How many?" while nodding at the table.

McGee looked defeated. Shrugging, he said, "Way too many." He looked a bit awed, "Dunno how she got that many down in such a short period of time. She'll be buzzing for a week."

Gibbs snorted. "Take her home with you, McGee. Get some rest. I don't want to see either of you for two weeks. Take some agents with you for protection."

Extracting Tony from Abby's over-energized sphere of influence, Gibbs headed for home. Time for some serious TLC for his SFA…

**A/N: It's time again to subsume my life to serving the furkids. Back on Monday with the next chapter. And the sick diabetic boykitty is doing fine now - thank goodness for modern veterinary medicine.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Insomnia, you have struck again! So, here's a bonus for the weekend. Enjoy, and thanks for the reviews! You guys are the best!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS, just borrowing the characters for a little fun.**

Chapter 21

Tony woke stiff and sore. His shoulder throbbed and ached, and the pain radiated across his back and up into his head. He sighed as he tried to stretch wondering if he'd ever manage to feel un-tired and un-hurting ever again. Heading down the stairs, he could smell coffee and pancakes. Now how did Gibbs know exactly when to make those pancakes?

As he walked into the kitchen, he winced as he noticed the clock – it was near noon. Gibbs pointed at the table where a plate of hot blueberry pancakes with bacon and OJ waited for him. Handing him a few pills Ducky had prescribed, he waited, watching until Tony sighed resignedly and tossed them back, washing them down with the OJ.

Finishing up with his meal, he sat back and tried stretching again. With Gibbs help with the sling and waterproofing his bandage, he managed a long hot shower which felt like sheer heaven. He ended up in jeans and a button-down shirt – comfortable, if not professional. He didn't know if it was the rest, the hot shower, the pills, the good food, or a combination, but he finally felt a little better. The throbbing pain had subsided to a gentle ache, and he could feel his headache melting away.

Gibbs handed Tony a cup of hot cocoa and pointed to the couch as they headed to the living room. "What now, boss? Any word on the hospital situation?"

"Still being swept for booby-traps. Eli's Kidon refused to stand down and were taken out. The one who ran was captured early this morning trying to cross the border into Canada. It'll take time to repair the damage, but it should be up and somewhat operational by tomorrow."

Staring into the fireplace where the logs had shifted and settled and only embers were left glowing, Tony asked, "Casualties?"

"Apart from the Kidon, one patient – a heart attack, one LEO, and two agents. The injuries are still being tallied. Considering the firefights going on in there, we got off light."

Tony winced. All because of Eli David and his insane desire for revenge, or whatever he wanted to call it. How did things get so screwed up? How could David gain so much power as to send teams of Kidon agents into the country? What possessed him to even consider targeting a _hospital_? Why didn't the Kidon question their orders? Surely they must have thought their orders were strange and made no sense.

"Don't know why. We may never have a satisfactory answer," Gibbs said, reading his mind. "Fornell has a fire lit under the agents who were supposed to be pulling protection at the hospital. I suspect there will be more than a few heads rolling by the time he's done. Vance isn't too happy with some of our agents either."

"What about the protection detail?" Tony asked, looking out the window for any activity.

"Pulled off this morning. The Israelis have eyes on the remaining officers who are suspected of ties to Eli David. Still looking for Eli though."

Tony rested his head on the chair back, closing his eyes. _Please let this be over_, he thought. "So what's up for today?"

Gibbs rose to his feet, "Headquarters for now. Ducky wants to check you over again now that you've had some rest. Your shoulder hurt where the harness you had on crossed it?"

"No, it's fine. DB made sure to keep the pressure off as we slid down the line. Nothing like feeling like a sack of potatoes tied to a mule. Wish I had my cell with me when Palmer came down strapped to that Marine he was buddied with – I thought he was going to puke down the front of the guy." His amused smile faded as he continued, "He did ok though. So did McGee and Abby. They all did."

Gibbs regarded him with a crooked half-smile, "Yeah, they did. Good enough to nominate them for commendations?"

Tony nodded, returning the smile, "Yeah. I'll fill the paperwork out and submit it to the Director."

With a start, Tony realized they'd forgotten someone, "Ziva - what about her?"

Gibbs looked at Tony with an unreadable expression. "She's still in FBI custody."

"She'll be released when this is over?" Tony watched Gibbs expression closely as he asked. He felt torn in so many different directions over Ziva. She was a part of the team, and eventually he hoped she'd forgive him for killing her friend, even if he had no choice in the matter.

"Hey!" Gibbs slammed a flat hand down on an end table.

Tony jumped, wondering what he'd done wrong this time.

Gibbs stared hard at him, eyes dead serious. "She's going to be charged with espionage, DiNozzo, at a minimum. She withheld information on an active investigation. She didn't report Rivkin's whereabouts or what she knew of his activities. And when her partner went above and beyond to give her a chance to come clean, she screwed him over."

Gibbs stood, and Tony followed suit. "But she wasn't there when Rivkin attacked me, Boss. That wasn't her fault. She shouldn't…"

Gibbs cut him off, "He shouldn't have been in her apartment in the first place, DiNozzo. He'd been ordered repeatedly to leave the country. He was out of control, and she should have reported him to his handler when she first realized he was have difficulties. She should have arrested him and taken him into custody when she learned he'd murdered Agent Sherman, but she didn't. She let her feelings for him interfere with doing her job. Rivkin is dead as much from her own failure to do her duty as he is from his drunken fight with you while resisting arrest."

Getting into Tony's face, Gibbs continued, seeing the distress in his SFA's eyes, and needing to end it before it tore at him. "You did your job. You did it in spite of personal conflict. You did it even though it involved your partner." Using his finger under Tony's chin to maintain eye contact, he said quietly, "You knew the cost of your actions, but did your duty regardless." Pausing to make sure Tony was paying attention, "You did good, Anthony. You did damn good." He waited, watching until Tony relaxed and nodded.

Taking a deep breath and shoving his continued misgivings down deep out of sight, Tony smiled, "Thanks, Boss. Though I wish it didn't…." He couldn't continue.

Gibbs grabbed his coffee cup and said, "Did it occur to you that, even if she could stay somehow, with Eli David dethroned, the liaison position might not even exist now?"

He watched Tony's eyes widen in realization, and nodded to himself, satisfied that Tony had one more reason to absolve himself of any guilt he may still feel about Ziva losing her position on the team.

Heading to the kitchen to refill his coffee mug, Gibbs said over his shoulder, "Grab your gear. Ducky's expecting us."

-000-

"What's the difference between what Rivkin did and what those Kidon did? They both murdered federal agents! Citizens! A police officer! They terrorized, bombed, kidnapped, shot…" Tony ran out of breath to yell further. He was furious at Vance, and at the SecNav on the big screen in MTAC.

Davenport waved a hand soothingly, "Son, let's not get carried away here. Yes, what those Israelis did wasn't what we would have wanted, but they were operating at the express order of…."

Tony interrupted, "What they were doing was outright criminal. Didn't any of them question their orders? Wonder at why they'd be ordered to carry out an assault operation on a _hospital_ of all places?" Disgusted, Tony turned from the display and away from Vance, not sure he could keep his temper much longer.

Vance looked to Gibbs for help, but Gibbs just took a seat and stared back at him silently. The room just stank of politics at the moment.

The SecNav finally broke the silence, "Look, there will be restitution for the damages at Bethesda, some private acknowledgement of the culpability of the Israelis in this whole mess, but we can't afford to have this go public. The bill before the appropriations committee to provide Israel with badly needed armaments and funding for defense operations is scheduled for hearings this week. The media has been sold on the story of a homegrown terrorist attack on Bethesda. It needs to stay that way Agent DiNozzo. As hard as it might be after what you've experienced, you're going to have to accept…."

Tony tore off his headset and threw it on the floor, leaving MTAC without looking back.

Gibbs followed him after sending Vance a pointed look. He caught up with Tony at the bottom of the stairs. "Hey! DiNozzo."

Spinning around to face Gibbs, Tony hissed, "This is so much bullshit, and you know it. Those people at the hospital didn't deserve to suffer or die. This whole thing is because the Israeli government didn't keep Eli David under control. They didn't call him out on his self-aggrandizement and power grabs. Someone has to speak up for those people, to make sure their deaths and hours trapped in that nightmare weren't in vain. The Israeli government owes them an apology! At a minimum!"

"Let it go for now, DiNozzo. Let Vance and the SecNav have some time to come up with options. Meanwhile, we have another matter to attend too." He led Tony to an unused conference room, closing the door behind him, and motioning for Tony to sit.

Sinking into a chair, Tony groaned silently at the returning aches and tension running together into painful misery. All he wanted now was to put his head down and sleep, to forget this whole damn mess for a few hours.

Pouring a glass of cold water for Tony, Gibbs set it by the other man's hand before settling down into a chair himself. "Ziva."

Tony looked at him, "What?" He hadn't seen her since her visit at the hospital. Scrubbing his face with his free hand, he felt like that had been a long time ago - in another lifetime almost.

Gibbs sipped the coffee he'd gotten from the dispenser in the room, grimacing at the weak brew. "She was transferred here this morning by the FBI. She's being charged with espionage, assaulting a federal law enforcement officer, multiple counts of conspiracy to commit murder, obstructing a federal investigation, and more."

The memory of Ziva standing at the foot of his hospital bed looking pleased while he was being strapped down by his Israeli captors came back to him, blurry and vague. Tony involuntarily shook his head, feeling bitterness rise up, frustration, anger at her. "She didn't stop them. She was at the hospital when Ben-Gidon and Solah kidnapped me, watched them strap me down, give me an injection of something, let them wheel me out the door…."

Gibbs shook his head minutely. "Even if she were to realize how badly she's screwed up, she's not going to return to the team. You know that, Tony, right?"

Tony dropped his gaze to the tabletop, feeling so many conflicting emotions he wasn't sure what to think. Ziva had gone so far out of bounds that it was almost beyond his ability to forgive. Could he ever trust her again? She'd betrayed the team, betrayed NCIS, betrayed him. Yet….

"Hey," Gibbs said softly. "She made her decisions. Now she has to live with them. I don't like it, but it's gone beyond what can be overlooked. Even if I wanted her back, no investigation we work on with her would be free from suspicion or oversight. Convictions would be at risk. Past investigations reexamined, questioned."

Tony knew this was true. It'd open a huge can of worms if their past investigations were gone over with a fine tooth comb. They'd skirted the edge of the law at times when time was critical in stopping or preventing injury or death to innocent civilians.

Gibbs continued, "She's damaged the team. I can't trust her to do the right thing if she were faced with competing loyalties again."

Tony spoke, almost in a whisper, "She trusts you, Gibbs. She always will."

"And that's why she can't remain on the team." Gibbs told him. "This isn't a two person team of just her and me." He studied Tony, knowing his SFA was hurt by Ziva's distrust; knowing it played on Tony's lack of self-worth that she rejected him.

Giving Tony a gentle head-slap, he locked eyes with his Agent, and held out a finger between them to emphasize his next point. "She wanted me to choose between you and her, to transfer one of you off the team. If I had to choose, it wouldn't be her."

Tony stared at him, mouth opened. "She what?"

With a smirk, Gibbs said, "You want me to repeat that, DiNozzo?"

He paused just long enough to make sure his point had sunk in, then rose, "C'mon. It's time Fornell and I had a chat with her. She's been demanding to see me since she was taken into custody, so let's give her what she wants. I want you in observation."


	22. Chapter 22

_Sorry this is late! Too much to do and not enough time. Sigh. Here's a nice big chapter to make up for the delay. Only a small epilogue to finish this story off that I'll post tomorrow. I sure hope the big interrogation scene doesn't disappoint! Thank you everyone for the reviews! As usual, booboos are my bad. _

_Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS, just borrowing the characters for a little fun._

Chapter 22

Tony stared at Ziva from the observation room. She was seated at the table, facing the one-way mirror, her face cold and angry, posture tense and controlled. He wondered what thoughts were running through her head.

As Fornell and Gibbs entered the room, she rose to her feet, "Finally! Gibbs, why am I in custody? What is going on? I kept asking to talk to you, and no one will tell me what has been happening."

Fornell took the seat across from her chair, "Sit down, Ms David." He set several folders down, opened the top one, and started leafing through the papers. Gibbs moved to stand behind Fornell, leaning against the wall.

Ziva ignored Fornell, directing her questions to Gibbs, "Gibbs, what is going on? Why is _he_ here? She jerked her head at Fornell. When neither men responded, she slammed her hand down on the table top, and demanded loudly, "Will someone answer me? _Why am I here?_"

Looking up at her, Fornell told her coldly, "Sit down, or I will have you handcuffed to the table."

Lifting her upper lip in an expression of distaste, she eyed him icily. "You try and I will gut you."

She moved to stand in front of Gibbs. "Will you please tell me what is going on?"

Gibbs nodded to the table, "Sit down, Ziva. We have some questions for you." When she just stood there looking at him, he leaned in closer to her and said in a near whisper, "That was an order." He felt a deep sadness and regret for her, knowing what was coming, but he couldn't stop it. A line that should never have been crossed had been trampled on by her, and he could see no way out of the consequences.

With an uncertain look at Gibbs, Ziva sat down, looking at him with puzzlement and a touch of worry now.

Fornell slid several photos towards her. "Officer Rivkin. He was at the Secretary of the Navy's house while a high-level meeting was in progress." Spreading out the photos taken of him leaving the house and traveling towards her apartment, he said, "He left the area, but was tracked." He slid a final photo toward her, "To your apartment."

Sliding the photos around while glancing at them, she sat back, "You cannot tell who this person is – the photos are too dark to make him out."

Fornell tapped the final photo with his finger. "Your apartment. Why was he there?"

Snapping she said, "He was visiting me! He is…was a friend and was visiting me while on vacation. What is so hard to understand about that? Why are you spying on me?"

Leaning forward, Fornell snapped back, "His vacation include spying on high-level meetings and murdering federal agents?" He slammed down a photo of Special Agent Tom Sherman. "He killed an ICE Agent while he was 'vacationing' at a meeting he had no business being anywhere near. And afterwards he headed to your apartment like it was a homing beacon. Why didn't you report him? Take him into custody for questioning once you realized what had happened? He was out of control. Why didn't you report him to your superiors?"

"My superiors? Why should I? He was on vacation. He had nothing to do with this…this murder you speak of." She waved her hand at the photos dismissively.

Fornell pounded on the desktop, voice raised, "You _knew_ where he had been that night. You knew what he did. You knew he was in this country on false pretenses. He was not here on vacation. He was here to track down and kill suspected terrorists before we could capture them for interrogation. You knew this and you still didn't report him. That makes you an accessory to the murder of a federal agent."

Ziva stood up and hissed at him, "I will not listen to your lies and accusations. We are done here." She moved to the door, but found it locked. Spinning around she faced Gibbs, staring at him angrily. "Are you going to put up with this….this questioning by the FBI? Why is he here anyway?"

Gibbs pointed at the chair, "Sit down and answer the questions."

She stood firm, "I will not answer any questions from him."

Gibbs moved into her personal space, expressionless, voice flat and hard, "You will sit down and you will answer his questions."

Her stare briefly dropped and she looked a little lost. "Gibbs?"

He motioned to the chair, voice harder, more direct. "Answer the questions."

Returning to the chair, she sat down with a deep scowl.

Fornell didn't wait for her to settle back down. "When did you first know Rivkin was in the US?"

She gritted her teeth, "The first time I knew he was in the US was when Gibbs was in Los Angeles. He wanted confirmation of Micha….Officer Rivkin's identity."

"You had no contact with Rivkin before then?"

"I had no contact with him in the US before them. I did see him on a vacation recently, in Israel."

Fornell sat back in his chair, looking at her with an expression of disbelief. "You had no idea he was in the country before that call in MTAC?"

Ziva sat back mimicking Fornell's posture, "No."

"Special Agent DiNozzo tracked you down to a meeting you had with Rivkin at a café here in DC before Rivkin headed to LA. You want to change your story?"

Slamming her hands on the tabletop again, she hissed furiously at him, "Tony was _jealous_ of Michael. He could not just ask to meet him! He had to skunk around like a….a jealous tomcat!"

"Your partner asked you if you knew where Rivkin was. You refused to answer him. You knew Rivkin was in the US because you met him at that café. You deliberately withheld information about his location and activities."

"I did not withhold information. I told Tony that I would not tell him, but I would tell Gibbs."

Fornell leaned forward, eyes sharp, "You were asked a direct question by a superior about the location of a foreign operative in the United States, and you refused to answer. Because this information was not available, Rivkin was able to move freely around the country tracking down and murdering men before he was stopped."

Ziva scoffed and sneered, "A _superior officer_? Who are you talking about? I answered Gibbs when…"

Fornell interrupted her. "You were asked if you knew his whereabouts by your team's Senior Field Agent, and you refused to tell him."

"Superior? Tony?" She laughed, "He is an incompetent buffoon. It is because he is the Senior Field Agent that the position is meaningless. No one takes him seriously."

Gibbs stepped over to the table and leaned over it towards her, hands flat on the table top, eyes ice cold, "We've already covered this, Officer David. _I_ chose Special Agent DiNozzo as my team's Senior Field Agent. He's competent, experienced, and performs the duties of that job to _my_ standards of excellence. _I_ take him quite seriously. Are you suggesting that _I_ hired someone who is incompetent? That _I_ have tolerated having an incompetent person on my team? I did not chose you to become a part of my team. What does that tell you, Ziva?"

Ziva looked like she was going to argue with Gibbs, but he glared at her, daring her to speak.

Fornell continued on. "Have you exchanged emails or phone calls with Rivkin in the last few weeks?"

Sitting back, she replied calmly, though cracks were beginning to show through her façade of unruffled control, "We talked on the phone when he arrived to arrange meeting at the café, and again when he wanted to visit me at my apartment."

Staring at her with a raised eyebrow, Fornell said, "I thought you said you had no contact with him and didn't know he was in the US until the MTAC conference in which you were asked to identify him. Are you admitting now that you had contact with him prior to that?"

Glancing at Gibbs, she said, "We might have met for a quick drink at a café before he went on to LA, but he was on vacation so it is nothing." She waved her hand dismissively.

Fornell pulled out more papers from the folders he'd brought with him. He laid out a row of overlapping reports before her of phone records between her and Rivkin. "You want to change your statement?"

Looking at the documents, Ziva went from calm to fuming, "These are my _private_ records! You have no right…"

Interrupting her, Fornell yelled back at her, "You exchanged phone calls while he was in LA, and after he returned to DC. We _know_ you're lying, Officer David. Do you want to explain why?"

"These were private, personal….they are….we are friends, and talked about getting together, picking him up at the airport, deciding on where we would have dinner….They were personal and had nothing to do with any investigation."

Shaking his head, he pulled out printouts of decrypted emails and phone call transcripts and laid them out before her.

Her jaw dropped as she looked through them. "How…." Wide-eyed, shaken, she looked up. "I…how did you get these?"

Looking over at Gibbs, Fornell raised an eyebrow inquiringly. Gibbs nodded and exchanged places with Fornell. Tapping the papers in front of her, Gibbs said, "Explain."

"I…he was….there…." She stumbled to a stop. She swallowed then looked up at him, "Gibbs, it is not what it seems."

He stared at her, his blue eyes sharp and unyielding. "Explain."

Fingering the documents, looking them over like they held the answers she sought, she struggled to find a way to answer his demand. A minute of silence later, she finally laid the documents down, and laid her hands down flat on the table. "I cannot."

"You can. Explain."

Ziva pushed her chair away from the table, rose, and started pacing.

Gibbs' cell buzzed. Snapping it open, Gibbs read the message. Frowning, he gathered up the documents and folders from the table, handing them to Fornell. As he reached the door, it was opened from the other side by the agent assigned to guard duty. Vance was waiting for him outside the door to the observation room. Fornell followed Gibbs silently, puzzled about the interruption.

Vance led them into the observation room where Tony waited, wondering what was going on. He leaned on the wall to take the weight off his sore leg.

"You need to read Officer….Ms. David her rights and ask her if she wants an attorney present before further interrogation."

Gibbs asked, "What's going on, Leon?"

Looking uncomfortable for a few seconds, Vance gave an answer none of them liked. "Eli David was located. He'd fled to Brazil. He was gunned down by unknown assailants before the Israelis could request an extradition."

Fornell asked, "He's dead?"

"He is. The body was positively identified as Eli David. It's being returned to Israel so he can be buried in the family crypt."

"What does that have to do with questioning Ziva?" Gibbs said.

With a sour look, Vance continued, "She was kicked out of Mossad. As such, she no longer is the liaison to NCIS. If she is charged with anything, it'll be as a private individual." He turned to look at Ziva through the one-way mirror. "Losing her father, losing her job…regardless of whether she's arrested and charged, State has already decided she'll be asked to leave the US and be banned from returning." Turning back to Gibbs, he continued, "She's going to be in a world of hurt, Gibbs. Not sure what you'll be able to do for her."

Looking tired and sad, Gibbs said, "Not sure myself, Leon."

Fornell said, "Justice has already decided to charge her with several crimes. If she's convicted, she'll be in prison for a long time."

Vance glanced at Tony, silent in the corner, before continuing, "Israel and State are working on an agreement whereby the Israelis will pay restitution to any family injured or killed during the renegade Kidon activities. It will be run through the Executive Department to avoid identifying the Israelis as the source of the funds. The President will apologize to the victims in place of the Israelis' own apology for the same reason."

Seeing Tony's stony faced expression, Vance knew it wasn't enough to satisfy DiNozzo. Well, he didn't like it either, but they both would have to suck it up for the sake of diplomacy. He'd give his own apology to Tony later in private for his lack of support on the trip to Israel when Rivkin's body was escorted home.

Nodding towards the window, Vance finished, "Mirandize her. Justice is sending over someone to ask if she needs representation. Finish up as much of your interrogation as you can before they get here." With that, Vance left.

Looking at Gibbs and Tony, Fornell excused himself. The recording technician smartly decided to get a quick cup of coffee and followed Fornell out.

Tony sank into the tech's empty chair, and bowed his head, looking totally worn out. "She was working under orders, Gibbs. Does she deserve to go to prison for following orders?"

Gibbs studied Tony, "She lied to us, to you, to me. She stood by and watched you being kidnapped with the intent of sending you to a certain death at the hands of a foreign power."

"You don't know that, Boss. The trial may have proven my actions were justified."

Gibbs snorted, "And pigs may someday fly. You listen to me, Tony. She lied to us. She supplied intelligence she got from NCIS to him. She failed in her duties to Mossad. She failed in her duties to NCIS. She failed _us_. I can no longer trust her. And since she refuses to see what she doesn't want to see, she has no place on the team. All of this is a result of decisions she made, no one else."

"I know that, boss! I understand what you're saying, what she's done, how she feels about…I…I _know_. I know. I just wish it hadn't come to this." He shook his head, and finally let the last of his hope for her fade away. In a very quiet voice, he said, "Another partner gone. Another partner who crossed the line. Why? Why does this keep happening? " He looked exhausted.

"She was serving two masters. Put her in an awkward situation. If she were a Special Agent, she'd be facing an IA investigation, and official misconduct charges at a minimum. If you or McGee had done something this stupid, I'd have fired your asses and arrested you myself." Pausing for a moment in thought, Gibbs continued, "For someone who measures herself against Mossad standards of excellence, she's not done a good job."

He turned to the door but paused, looking back at the man sitting slumped tiredly, "Meant what I said about you in there, Tony." He vanished out the door, probably heading off for coffee.

A brief smile of pleasure crossed Tony's face at Gibbs' words before he turned to watch Ziva through the mirror. How in hell did things end up in such a mess?

-000-

Fornell and Gibbs reentered the interrogation room. Fornell sat across from Ziva. "Before we go any further, I need to read you your rights." He pulled out an index card and read the standard script followed by law enforcement officers across the country, ending with the canned, "Do you understand these rights?"

Making a face of disgust, Ziva snapped, "Yes, I understand them."

"Do you wish to have an attorney present before we continue?"

"I do not need an attorney. I have done nothing wrong." Ziva scowled as if she'd bitten something sour.

Pulling out more documents, Fornell skimmed them, "You were present when two men entered Special Agent DiNozzo's hospital room in Bethesda, representing themselves as hospital staff. According to Special Agent DiNozzo, you recognized these two men as Mossad. Is that right?"

"Tony was spaced out in clown land on drugs. Anything he says he remembers cannot be trusted."

"So you deny you knew the two men?"

Ziva sat back and crossed her arms, refusing to answer him.

Fornell waited for a moment, then pulled out a couple of photos taken in the past of Ziva with Ben-Gidon and Solah at a restaurant, obviously in conversation. He laid the photos down in front of her, then waited. When she remained silent, he pulled out another photo from a hospital surveillance camera clearly showing the two men wheeling an unconscious Tony along on a gurney. He followed this by photos of Ziva taken at the same time at the hospital on the floor where Tony's hospital room had been located.

Gibbs said, "One of the nurses saw you leaving DiNozzo's room just after those two left with him. You were given a direct order to stay away from DiNozzo. Explain."

Ziva looked at him, her expression less certain than a minute before.

Leaning on the table again, Gibbs got in her face, "You let two Mossad officers render DiNozzo unconscious, then wheel him out of his room, knowing they were removing him from the hospital under duress, and you did nothing to stop them. You let them kidnap your partner. Explain."

When she remained silent, he slammed his hand down inches from her and yelled, "Explain, David. Now."

Wide-eyed, she stammered, "I didn't know where they were taking Tony. They said they were going to get his shoulder x-rayed before surgery…." She trailed off when she realized how lame her words were, plus she as much as admitted that she had been in the room when they took Tony. Opening her mouth to speak, she found she didn't know what to say. Looking at Gibbs' harsh expression, she felt a touch of fear start to stir inside her body.

Fornell leaned forward intently as he asked, "What do you know about the attack on the hospital?"

Taken by surprise, she stared at him. "What attack?"

Knowing she'd been in custody at the time, he thought it was about time they shook her up and see what came out of it.

"The attack by several Kidon teams that your father ordered."

Ziva looked puzzled and uncertain. "My father? Why would he order an attack on the hospital?"

"To assassinate DiNutzo. Or kidnap him….again."

Ziva looked to Gibbs, "But Tony wasn't at the hospital. Surely he knew that, yes?"

Exchanging a look with Fornell, Gibbs jerked his chin in her direction as if giving permission to continue.

Fornell leaned back, intending to enjoy the next part. "Your two Mossad colleagues who took DiNutzo from the hospital took him to Baltimore and checked into a hotel to wait for transportation back to Israel. He was handcuffed to the bed, injured, guarded by your two friends there," Fornell stabbed a finger at the men in the photos. "Your 'incompetent' partner managed to do quite a bit of damage to one as he escaped. While your friends were busy hunting him down, he set them up - quite a clever ploy - they ended up busted and in custody by the local cops. After that he took out yet another one trying to assassinate him. Then he made his way back to DC from Baltimore, evading any followers." He snorted, looking inordinately amused, "Not bad for an ignorant, incompetent beat cop."

Ziva shook her head in denial until she saw the pleased, proud look on Gibbs' face. Gaping, she sat silent, trying to take in what she'd been told. Finally she managed to ask in a quiet voice, "Why was he in the hospital then?"

"He was there to undergo the surgery he should have had before he was kidnapped. To fix the broken shoulder blade and ribs you caused by knocking him off his feet to land flat on his back on hard concrete, then shoving a loaded Sig into his chest." Fornell's eyes narrowed, "You're a professionally trained assassin. Since when would someone with your training point a loaded weapon at someone because they're angry at them? Is that something your trainers in Israel would approve of, Miz. David? Very unprofessional."

At that, Ziva coldly replied, "The only thing I did wrong then was not pull the trigger."

Gibbs rounded the table in a flash and yanked her chair around so she was facing him. Leaning down until he was an inch from her face, he said in an ice cold whisper, "If you had, you'd be dead now." His furious steel blue eyes drilled into hers until she closed hers in apprehension, unable to meet his gaze any longer. For the first time in years, she was truly frightened. She swallowed hard, breath coming fast.

"Gibbs, I would not….I did not…."

He pushed hard on the arms of her chair, sending it back several inches, before straightening up. Looking down at her for several seconds dispassionately, he finally told Fornell, "Finish this up, Tobias."

Swallowing, Ziva turned back towards the FBI Agent. All of a sudden, she wasn't so certain about her situation. A feeling of foreboding grew in her, adding to her anxiety.

All business now, Fornell said, "Several Kidon teams were sent by your father to stage a coordinated assault on Bethesda Naval Hospital to either assassinate Special Agent DiNutzo, or smuggle him out of the country to Israel to "stand trial" for killing Officer Rivkin. As part of that assault, the Kidon set off bombs seriously damaging parts of the hospital, and killed, injured, and terrorized staff, patients, relatives and children while trying to reach DiNutzo." He paused to look at her stunned and shocked face. "What did you know of this plan?"

Ziva sat white-faced, utterly shocked. "I…..I do not….it is…." She fell silent, unable to form a clear thought.

"Did you know of Director David's order to kill Amit Hadar because he decided to help us track down Kidon teams in the area?" Looking like she was going to be sick, Ziva didn't even try and answer. At a pleading look to Gibbs, the silver-haired man answered, "He was murdered. His body was dumped on the steps of the Israeli Embassy. David also ordered the assassination of Officer Bashan. And an attack on FBI headquarters in an effort to free you from custody. FBI Agents were killed and injured during that attack, along with the Assistant to the Secretary of State being shot dead."

Ziva whispered, looking aghast, "He's gone mad."

Fornell looked to Gibbs and asked him, "You want to tell her about her father?"

At Gibbs nod, he exchanged positions with Gibbs.

With an apprehensive stare, Ziva braced herself for whatever he was going to say.

With a softer tone, Gibbs said, "Your father was dirty, Ziva. He had file of information he compiled and was using to blackmail others into either following his agenda or looking the other way. McGee and Abby found the file and it's been turned over to the authorities in Israel."

Ziva stared at Gibbs in shock. He wondered if it was because she didn't know about the blackmail files, or because she had known and it'd been found.

"Your father was removed from office and was charged with several offenses. Before he could be taken into custody, he fled. An international manhunt was started. Several hours ago, he was spotted, but before he could be taken into custody, he was shot and killed."

Without warning, Ziva leaned over and started heaving her guts out. Gibbs moved a trash can over to her, and crouched down rubbing her back softly in circles while waiting for her to recover. After a minute, she managed to sit up, rinsing her mouth out with the water bottle Gibbs passed to her.

Rising to return to the other side of the table, Gibbs continued, knowing she'd want to get whatever else was coming over with. "Mossad terminated your employment with them. The NCIS-Mossad liaison job has been eliminated."

Disbelieving, Ziva sat feeling numb.

Fornell picked up the litany next. "You are being charged with espionage, interfering in a federal investigation, accessory to the aggravated murder of a federal law enforcement officer, and conspiracy to kidnap a federal agent. Someone from Justice will be here shortly to help you find an attorney to represent you. Be glad you aren't being accused of terrorism or you'd be heading to Gitmo."

As she sat there, tears began to slide down her face. The magnitude of what she'd gotten herself into was finally sinking in and she had no idea how to deal with what she was facing. She looked at Gibbs, silently begging him to tell her that this was some sort of sick joke, that this wasn't really happening. "Gibbs?"

He hated to see her like this, but she really had no one but herself to blame.

Fornell stepped in, knowing Gibbs needed a buffer from her painfully lost and frightened expression. "Ms. David, tell me, if nothing had happened to interfere with your father's plans for DiNutzo, and he had reached Israel, what would have happened to him by now?"

It was like a switch had been flipped. Flushing with anger, she jumped up and turned around to hit the wall with her clenched fists. "This is all because of him! He caused all of this because of his stupid, weak….he is pathetic! He would be in prison, being properly questioned. None of this would have happened. Michael would be here. Those terrorists would be dead. My father would still alive, still be protecting Israel, still be strong. Everything would be ok!" She took a deep breath, "Michael….we would still be….he was…"

Crossing his arms, Fornell said, "You don't see anything wrong with your behavior in all of this? Perhaps you and your boyfriend might have picked a different way to accomplish your objectives without betraying your team mates, your friends, or your duties?"

Glaring at Fornell, she remained stubbornly silent.

Unperturbed, Fornell glared back at her. "Insanely jealous? Really? Because I don't see any evidence that DiNutso is enamored of you, Miz David. What I see is someone trying their best to cover their sorry partner's ass. And if you can't see that, then you really don't get it do you? "

Gibbs added, "_Everything would be ok?_ Do you really think that everything would be ok with DiNozzo being tortured in an Israeli prison, facing death for _doing his job? Do you?_"

Looking into his eyes, she felt a flush of fear run through her again. Their icy blue depths promised certain death if anything happened to Tony. Blinking, she backed away from him, genuinely terrified. Breathing heavily, confused, angry, uncertain, she stood paralyzed. What would happen to her? She stared wide-eyed at him, looking for any sign that he cared, that he would rescue her. He was the only person she trusted. Who would save her now?

He tipped his head a little to one side while meeting her gaze, knowing what she was thinking, what she was expecting. With an almost imperceptible shake of his head, he turned to leave the room, followed by Fornell.

Disbelieving, her jaw dropped. She barely registered the agents who entered the room and handcuffed her hands to a belly-chain, and shackles to her ankles. Leading her out of the room, she came face to face with Tony.

He looked at her, his expression exhausted, disillusioned, and deeply disappointed. "What did I ever do to you that made you hate me so much?" he whispered to her. Surprised, gaping, she looked at him, raw and unable to come up with an answer. Feeling mortified and unsettled, she dropping her stare; her internal world had come unhinged, and she couldn't pull herself together.

When she didn't answer, he turned and walked away from her.

Feeling desperate and anxious, though she couldn't say why right then, she gasped out, "Tony! Wait. Please."

He walked on, not looking back.


	23. Epilogue

**It's hard for me to believe that I've come to the end of my first story, but here we are. I hope everyone reading it has enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I've taken great pleasure in reading the reviews, learned from the constructive criticism, and appreciate the reviews that showed it is possible to be critical and still be civil and polite. To new friends – thanks for the support! I hope over the next few days to personally respond to the reviews, but for those that I cannot, I wish to express my gratitude here. **

**It was challenging and exciting to find a way to take an episode that bugged the heck out of me and "make it right." Scousemuz1k was a great help and source of encouragement, and after I praise her, I going to wag a finger in her face and make her round up all the plot bunnies that have taken up residence here. It's all her fault! **

**Enjoy the epilogue, and I'll be back soon with another story. **

**Whew – what an exciting ride!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own NCIS, just borrowing the characters for a little fun.**

Epilogue

Many weeks later, at a closed hearing at the federal courthouse, Ziva David, through her attorneys, entered a plea of no-contest to a single charge of espionage. She was sentenced to a minimum of 10 years in a federal prison, after which she would be expelled from the country and never allowed to return.

The head of the Kidon section resigned, was arrested, and never heard from again. Restitution was paid to the victims of the hospital fiasco. Apologies were offered.

Gibbs visited Ziva once in pretrial confinement while her case proceeded through the legal system. She asked him to not visit again, and to let the rest of the team know she didn't want them to visit either, stating she wanted time to think about what had happened.

Tony never spoke to her again - never spoke of her again.

Ducky shook his head sadly and observed that he hoped she could find answers and self-enlightenment as she worked through what had happened. He mailed her a note in which he expressed his hopes for her and promised to visit her if she wanted to talk about what had happened.

Jimmy decided he'd rather spend his time supporting his friends than trying to puzzle Ziva out.

McGee shredded the unfinished manuscript of the next L.J. Tibbs book and cancelled the contract for any new books in the series. It took a while, but he turned his writing to a new genre and eventually wrote several more best sellers.

Abby spent her time trying to think of a way to kill Ziva while she was in prison without leaving a trace of forensic evidence. After several attempts to talk to Tony about her, she learned to avoid any reference of his former partner around him.

Vance went through several more boxes of toothpicks before everything was settled and put to bed. He hoped fervently that the whole mess remained buried until he was long retired.

Fornell wisely discussed Ziva only when it was absolutely necessary.

Gibbs was silent about Ziva, but the others caught him at times with a wistful expression when looking at her desk. He kept a close eye on Tony for a long while afterwards and invited him over often for cowboy steaks and movies. And if a little gentle counseling and head-slaps worked their way into the conversation after a few beers, neither spoke of it with others.

It took over two years to find a new team member to round out the team that fit in well.

Life continued.

The End


End file.
